


The Scout's Guide: A Team Fortress 2 Story

by skittlestriestowrite



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: (I'll adjust tags as updates go along), Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, some major injuries (but nothing too in depth)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 16:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13617027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittlestriestowrite/pseuds/skittlestriestowrite
Summary: It's the year 1967.  Kaethe Daube, a 20-year-old Boston resident, works hard to make a simple living to support herself and her elderly grandfather.  She expects to continue living the quiet life -- but when TF Industries comes knocking on her door to hire her as an even-keeled manager for a "loose cannon," she accepts the job and becomes the strategic assistant of "the Scout," one of nine men on a team of dangerous mercenaries working for Builders League United.  As she works to figure out how she fits into the team, she forges unexpected bonds with her new coworkers and begins to discover secrets about her past she couldn't ever have imagined...





	1. 01

It is said that fate grants every living being a single event that defines the course of their entire life. Sometimes, these events are suffocatingly obvious and grand, and other times they quietly slip by unnoticed and forgotten until later in life. More often than not, however, these defining moments are somewhere in between -- and that was certainly the case for Kaethe Daube.

The trickle-down that led to this moment began on a quiet Monday morning in the downtown district of Boston, just like most other Mondays. That particular early morning it happened to be raining, and as such there was little traffic on the narrow street, and no one on the sidewalk to speak of.

No one except for Kaethe, that is. That morning, she was walking to work as she always did, her well-worn but clean gray wool coat wrapped around her petite figure, purse over her shoulder, and a black umbrella in hand. Her gait was brisk as she went along, being careful to step around puddles in order to avoid splashing dirty water onto her clean shoes. She stopped only briefly at the crosswalk to wait for a taxi to make its turn before she proceeded to cross the street, and walked into the laundromat where she worked.

The entry bell rang as she walked in, and no sooner than it had, a woman's voice called in a cheerful Italian accent from the back of the store: "Good morning, Kaethe! Early as always, I see -- or hear, rather."

Kaethe smiled a little as she collapsed her umbrella, and replied in her soft, German-accented voice, " _Guten Morgen_ , Mrs. Armani."

Mrs. Armani chuckled, and stepped out of the back. She was a well-built, middle-aged woman of about five and a half feet (average height, but she was much taller than Kaethe's five three and a quarter), with dark hair streaked with gray that was pulled into a no-nonsense bun. Her eyes sparkled jovially, the smile lines around her eyes and mouth visible. "Beautiful morning out,  _sì_?" she asked with another chuckle.

Kaethe glanced only briefly out of the wide laundromat window, and her smile widened a small amount. "Oh,  _ja_ ,  _ja_ ," she agreed with a laugh as she walked to the back of the laundromat with Mrs. Armani. "Lovely morning. Lots of cold and wet. No springtime, so no flowers, but still very nice, yes."

Mrs. Armani laughed. "Ah, what would I do without your wit?" She shook her head a bit, still chuckling. "Anyway, Anise and Stella ought to be here soon, and Lisa is supposed to be on dry clean pick-up duty today. Regular Monday, as always -- except..." She knit her brow. "... hm, I'm forgetting something... oh!" She glanced over at Kaethe. "Maria is out for today, since her little boy is sick, so can you fill in counter duty for her?"

Kaethe nodded as she put her purse into one of the small lockers, and began unbuttoning her coat. "Yes, of course!"

"Thank you." Mrs. Armani looked immensely relieved. "You won't be doing it by yourself, of course -- I'll ask one of the other girls to take charge at around eleven or so."

Kaethe nodded again as she finished unbuttoning her coat and removed it, hanging it up on the hooks in the back room. "All right, I'll remember that, thank you." She smoothed out her white blouse, re-tucking it into her crisp black skirt before pushing a few flyaway strands of her blond hair behind her ear. "Poor Maria, I hope she doesn't get sick too."

Mrs. Armani tsked agreeably. "Oh, yes. Poor thing was very upset when she called in this morning, but I told her not to worry about it -- from one mother to another."

That statement struck Kaethe a tad strangely, but she didn't let it visibly show -- she only showed her understanding by way of nodding and saying, "That was very kind of you, ma'am."

"Ah, perhaps. It was just the thing to do -- Maria is a very hard worker, and heaven knows she hardly takes a day off for herself. She deserved to be able to care for her son."

At that moment, the bell at the door jingled again, and two more girls walked into the laundromat. One was a tall, curvy brunette with a lingering summer tan and laughing brown eyes, and the other was of medium height with a petite build, with black hair and smiling green eyes. "Good morning, Mrs. Armani!" they called out at the same time, and laughed at this accidental unison.

Mrs. Armani laughed at this as well. "Anise, Stella! Good morning!"

"It is a good morning," Stella (the brunette) said as she removed her jacket, revealing an outfit that was exactly identical to Kaethe's. She grinned, the dimples in her rosy cheeks showing. "My flowers are still blooming, even though we're into the last few weeks of August."

"Mine stopped blooming ages ago--and," Anise said as she removed her gloves, her freckled face grim, "my asters died this weekend."

There was a brief pause, before Mrs. Armani turned to Anise with a coy look and asked, "All of them?"

Anise nodded firmly. "Every last one, from the tips down to the very roots." Her animosity was easily visible as she removed her long coat, squinting as she did so. "I'm so glad, honestly -- the wretched things were poorly taken care of by the last person who owned my house, and they were  _horrific_."

This tart statement brought a ripple of laughter from everyone in the room, especially Mrs. Armani. "Well, I'm glad that little issue has been resolved," she said, still chuckling when the laughter began to ebb as quickly as it began. Her eyes twinkled as she went on: "Now, ladies, time to discuss the plans for the day -- as soon as a few more people show up, that is."

 

And so it went. The day's plans were discussed as soon as a couple part-time employees showed up, and the laundromat opened at seven as it always did. As planned, Kaethe split the time at the counter with Stella, the two of them trading off every hour and switching between the various counter jobs and helping the customers in the store. It was a Monday, meaning that business was slow but steady -- and as such, the morning passed smoothly and with little interest until shortly before midday.

At around eleven thirty, the "worst" time of the day had already passed, and the laundromat was completely empty. It was dead quiet, except for the sound of the dry cleaning machines in the back of the store and the Beach Boys record that Stella had put on.

Kaethe had just traded off with Stella again, and had begun re-reading the copy of  _Emma_ she had stuck inside the desk earlier that morning. Now, as she sat at the counter filling in for Maria, her thoughts began to wander as her eye went over the pages:  _Only about a half hour to my lunch break or so. Then I have another few hours here, and then I'll go over to the restaurant with Mrs. Armani, work there for a couple of hours, and then I ought to stop by the library and pick up some more Shakespeare for when I go over to the nursing home on Friday to see Grandpapa... he does love Shakespeare._  She knit her brow, biting her lip as she turned a page.  _I hope he's doing alright... the staff there said that he's doing just fine and I needn't worry, but--_

Suddenly, the door jingled and brought Kaethe out of her musings. She quickly stuck a loose piece of paper inside the book before she closed it, and then rose to her feet and smiled as she composed herself. "Hello," she called in a friendly voice as a man entered the laundromat.

"Good morning," he replied with an agreeable smile. "How are you today?"

"I'm doing well, sir. And yourself?" Kaethe silently celebrated her triumph in speaking with a clear voice and not letting her accent get in the way.

"Excellent. I'm doing well myself, thank you." He smiled at her as he approached the counter, and stopped. "I'm here to drop some suits off for dry cleaning."

"Alright," Kaethe said, grabbing the nearby clipboard to write down the time he had come in. "By what time would you like to have these done?"

"Tomorrow morning, by eight-thirty sharp." He spoke with a conciseness that Kaethe found extremely unusual. "It's very important that they are finished."

"Alright," Kaethe repeated in a thoughtful tone as she checked the box on the clipboard indicating that the suits were top priority. "Anything else, sir?"

"That will be all, thank you."

"Okay..." Kaethe jotted a few more details onto the clipboard before glancing up at the man again. "And this is for..."

"Monsieur Bleu."

"Bleu... alright." Kaethe finished filling out the fields, then spun it around and tapped one last blank spot. "If you could just sign here, Herr Bla--I mean, Mr. Bleu," she said, quickly recovering.

Mr. "Bleu" raised an eyebrow slightly, and took the clipboard from her to sign it. "Alright.  _Merci_."

There was a brief silence while he wrote, and in that silence, Kaethe took a few brief moments to look over him for the first time. He was tall and thin, with salt and pepper hair and gray eyes, and wore a blue pinstriped suit that seemed  _alarmingly_  expensive. He had an air of dignified worldliness about him as he stood with his shoulders squared, and he seemed incredibly out of place in Mrs. Armani's laundromat, except for the stack of suits on hangers draped across his arm -- but even then, something struck Kaethe as being amiss, though she could not place it...

"You are German, no?" he asked suddenly, interrupting her silent reverie.

Kaethe barely kept herself from letting her eyes widen in slight surprise. "I am, yes," she said, slightly flustered by her slip-up.

He nodded in understanding. "I see." He finished writing, and handed the clipboard back to her, smiling as he did. "I thought you might have been by your accent, but I wasn't certain until you nearly called me 'Herr Blau'."

Kaethe fought to keep the embarrassed flush out of her cheeks. "I was raised by my German grandfather, so I'm in the habit of calling gentlemen such as yourself 'Herr'," she explained somewhat awkwardly. "I'm usually pretty good about not slipping up while I'm working, but it happens occasionally. My apologies."

Mr. Bleu smiled, shaking his head as he chuckled. "No need to be sorry. I'm used to it anyway, seeing as how I have a coworker who is German." He finished writing, and gave the pen back to Kaethe. "If I might be quite frank, I probably wouldn't have known unless you had slipped up. You speak with very clean diction."

"That's very kind, thank you, sir." She smiled, nodding to the suits. "If I may..."

"Of course," he replied, handing the suits over the counter to her.

"Thank you." She took the suits from him, exhaling a bit as she did. "Gracious." Out of habit, she briefly glanced down at the stack of suits in her arms, and stiffened as she took them in for the first time. Only barely able to restrain herself from letting her mouth hang open in surprise, she quickly composed herself again and looked up with a smile: "Just stop by tomorrow, and we'll have these finished."

Mr. Bleu raised an eyebrow, a hint of smile on his face. "Alright, thank you." He turned to go for a brief moment, before turning around again as a second thought and looking back over at Kaethe. "Until tomorrow, I suppose... Miss...?"

"Daube." She smiled, before adding: "Not to be confused with 'Taube.'"

He chuckled again. "Miss Daube. Good day." He gave her a respectful nod and one last smile before he turned and left the laundromat, the door jingling as he exited.

Kaethe stood for several long moments, before she finally glanced back down at the stack of suits in her arms. "...  _Was in aller Welt?_ " she finally said out in disbelief.  _Mr. Bleu indeed -- all of these suits are all alike!_

And they certainly were -- for every single one of them were exactly identical to the one Mr. Bleu had been wearing: blue, pinstriped, and  _incredibly_  expensive.

Kaethe couldn't help but stare for several moments longer, before muttering to herself once more: "What in heaven's--"

"Kaethe!" Mrs. Armani called from the back of the store. "Sorry, m'dear, I was back there longer than I expected."

"... it's fine," Kaethe replied, her voice a little unsteady. "Um... Mrs. Armani, would you mind coming here for a moment,  _bitte_?"

"... eh?" In the blink of an eye, Mrs. Armani was striding through the store as she approached Kaethe. " _Che cos'è?_ "

Kaethe sighed, holding up one of the suits. "Would you happen to know something about this?"

"... oh." Mrs. Armani sighed as well. "I forgot to tell you about that, didn't I...?" She sighed again, before continuing: "Was the person who dropped those suits off 'Mr. Bleu'?"

"Yes."

"Mmm." She pressed her mouth into a firm line, before she sighed again and continued: "I'll explain later. In the meantime, just focus on the rest of your shift,  _sì_?"

Kaethe reflected on this briefly, before she finally agreed with reluctance, "Yes, Mrs. Armani."


	2. 02

The rest of the afternoon went on without incident, as Mondays usually did. Kaethe finished the rest of her shift (trading off with Stella hourly throughout), and at a quarter to four, she left the laundromat with Mrs. Armani. "Quiet, as always," Mrs. Armani remarked as they walked down the street to the restaurant that Mrs. Armani owned with her husband. "Mondays are always that way, no?"

Kaethe nodded. " _Ja_. A bit different for me, but quiet."

Mrs. Armani immediately understood. "You're thinking about that gentleman who stopped by earlier, aren't you?"

Kaethe nodded, biting her lip. "That's one way of putting it."

Mrs. Armani chuckled as the restaurant came into view. "You think a great deal, my friend." Her eyes twinkled with amusement. "Trust me, I will tell you all I know once we're in the kitchen. Maybe that will satisfy your curious nature."

"Perhaps."

Mrs. Armani chuckled once more as they entered the restaurant, calling out a few Italian words of greeting to a few of her employees before turning to look at Kaethe again. "That being said, I hope that what you learn from me is enough to keep that busy mind of yours occupied while you're chopping and peeling vegetables."

Kaethe did not reply -- she only nodded in response as she thought to herself,  _I hope so too._

 

Some time later, Kaethe was in the kitchen washing and chopping a massive quantity of tomatoes, occupied with her thoughts as Mrs. Armani chatted with Carlo, the head chef and Mrs. Armani's husband. Kaethe only half-listened to their conversation as she worked -- for her mind had wandered elsewhere.  _I wonder if there will be time to go to the library after I'm done,_  she thought as she twisted the green top off of a tomato.  _There ought to be, seeing as how it's only Monday, and I took care of everything I needed to accomplish yesterday... and even if there isn't, I should at least put my books from last week in the drop box..._

She continued to muse like this for several more minutes until Mrs. Armani spoke, interrupting her reverie: " _Cavoli_ , Kaethe -- you're nearly finished with these!"

Startled, Kaethe glanced over at the tomatoes she had been given only a few minutes before, and found that she had managed to get through almost three-quarters of all of them. "...  _ja_ , I suppose I am," she replied, blinking.

Mrs. Armani threw her head back and laughed outright. " _Che roba_ , child -- you think even more than I thought you do." She chuckled at Kaethe's somewhat blank expression. "Would you like more tomatoes?"

"If you have them, of course."

Mrs. Armani's eyes twinkled. "Well, I'll get you some more, and some other vegetables to chop as well -- but heaven only knows you'll have those finished just as quickly as you've demolished these tomatoes.  _Un attimo!_ " With this being said, she bustled off again.

With the lack of Mrs. Armani's grounding presence, Kaethe found herself drifting back into her previous state of reflection -- so much so that the process of preparing the tomatoes began to slip back into a virtually mechanical process. Wash, peel, cut, chop -- and then repeat. Wash, peel, cut, chop, repeat. Again, and again, and again...

After a time, Mrs. Armani returned with a few baskets full of vegetables just as Kaethe had finished cutting the last tomato. "Goodness, child," she remarked as Kaethe promptly reached for a zucchini. She raised an eyebrow, chuckling as she sat down next to Kaethe and began to peel some onions. "You know, it's fine if you slow down a little. Give these vegetables a little love." She smiled warmly at Kaethe. "We aren't French, after all."

Kaethe paused in the midst of raising her knife, then let out a tiny sigh. "I know. I'm sorry, Mrs. Armani."

"Oh, don't fret yourself about it." Mrs. Armani laughed as she discarded the papery skins and began to chop the onions. "Heaven knows I won't scold you for being a hard worker, Kaethe. I only remind you because you fly through vegetables so quickly I worry you'll cut yourself one of these days." She smiled as she shook her head. "Anyway, you wanted to know more about Mr. Bleu?"

Kaethe straightened with a jolt. "Yes," she said quickly, the zucchini at hand all but forgotten as her knife action slowed. "If you don't mind."

"No, of course not." Mrs. Armani pushed the chopped onions off to the side of the cutting board with the flat edge of her knife before she continued: "I only now remembered that you didn't know about him because you usually work in the back on Mondays -- but he's been coming by the laundromat for the past three weeks or so. Shows up every Monday around the same time as he did today, drops off about ten of those blue suits for cleaning, makes some conversation and leaves."

 _That explains why he commented on my accent today,_  Kaethe realized as she finished slicing the zucchini and reached for another one.

"It's strange, though," Mrs. Armani continued musingly as she peeled another onion. "Sometimes, he asks if we can mend holes, and other times, the girls find... very strange substances on his clothes."

The two of them were silent for a few moments, before Kaethe spoke up in a small voice: "... strange... substances?"

Mrs. Armani nodded slowly. "Oh, yes. Very frequently."

"... what... kinds of 'strange substances'?"

Mrs. Armani exhaled deeply, pausing briefly in the midst of raising her knife to chop the onion at hand. "Oh... just not what you'd think would be on expensive suits like that..." She glanced up at the ceiling of the kitchen, pondering very deeply. Then, she glanced from the side, then looked Kaethe in the eye as she continued in a low voice: "... the girls have found blood stains around the holes before. Not only that," she went on as Kaethe paled a bit, "but other things, as I said before. Lisa has said that she has found that horrible Bonk! Soda, bad liquor, and many, many other kinds of stains as well." A rare expression of grimness came onto her face. "I'll leave that to your imagination."

More silence ensued for a while longer, with nothing but the sound of Mrs. Armani finishing up cutting onions before moving onto some cloves of garlic. Finally, Kaethe ventured a little weakly, "And that's all you know?"

"Ah, not exactly -- he's stopped by the restaurant late before once or twice. Mina talked to him some, and he mentioned that he's only in town for a 'short time'." She raised an eyebrow as she finished extracting the clove from the skin, and began to chop it up. "All I'll say is that he must have a very strange idea of what a 'short time' is. I only thought he'd come by a week or two. But... having him stop by for so long has been good for business, I will admit..."

Kaethe wrinkled her nose in slight distaste. "I should hope so," she said drily, beginning to slice her zucchini rather forcefully.  _Soda... bad liquor... that's bad enough as is, not even factoring in how expensive the suits are._

For a good few minutes the two of them were silent once again, nothing but the sound of their knives slicing through vegetables, food cooking and the distant chatter amongst Carlo and others working in a separate part of the kitchen, and as the silence went on, Kaethe's slicing progressively became more fierce, her knife going from making a  _shnkshnkshnk_  sound to more of a  _CHNKCHNKCHNK_.  And she couldn't help it -- for her mind had begun to slip away as she pondered the mystery of the man in the blue suit...

"Kaethe?" Mrs. Armani asked, interrupting Kaethe's train of thought.

" _Ja_ , Mrs. Armani?"

"You're thinking again."  Her eyes held a knowingness that Kaethe had yet to see parallelled by anyone in her lifetime.  "I know that it's about that man.  What is it?"

"I... frankly, I don't know." Kaethe sighed, shaking her head as she filled a bowl with a portion of the vegetables she had been chopping. "I know very little, and I do not wish to misspeak. But... from what little I know, he's just... very unusual."

Mrs. Armani chuckled, and said in a low voice, "Gracious, child, no need to tell me what I already know."

"Oh,  _ja_ , I know," Kaethe said with a tiny sigh as Mrs. Armani continued to laugh. "But you see... it's just... oh, I don't know. He just... he doesn't fit in here." She knit her brow. "I mean, I know we've had a handful of gentlemen come to the laundromat since our service is so good that it rivals even some of the higher end cleaners -- but this man... he's so different, even more than other gentlemen."

The same expression that Mrs. Armani had worn when Anise had mentioned her asters returned to her face, and she nodded encouragingly. "Go on..."

"I... oh, I suppose he just struck me as being... very sophisticated." Kaethe bit her lip, exhaling somewhat forcefully. "I don't know. All I know is that he is very out of place in our small world." She continued putting the chopped vegetables into the bowls near at hand as she went on: "Very little changes around here. You know this. Everyone is exactly the same, whether they mean to be or not. Even new people are always the same as the ones who were already here." She paused for a moment before looking over at Mrs. Armani, and saying with finality: "And to me, Mr. Bleu isn't anything like the people I've known around here -- not even my grandpapa. And that's saying quite a lot."

"So what you're saying is that you don't trust him." Mrs. Armani was smiling the tiniest bit.

" _Nein_ , not exactly-- but that statement also... isn't wrong. Not exactly." She bit her lip again, shaking her head. "I know I've already said this so many times, but I just don't know. I honestly don't."

"Well," Mrs. Armani said as she placed a hand on Kaethe's arm, "this is what I will say to you: I wouldn't fret about it too much." She smiled at Kaethe's expression of slight dismay, before continuing: "Even though Mr. Bleu is a great curiosity, I don't think he's going to affect much of what's going on around here. He said he'd be gone within a few weeks, so by the time next week comes around, he'll likely be gone." Her eyes held an assured look, one that Kaethe recognized from whenever Mrs. Armani was speaking from unmentioned past experiences. "He has not posed any real threat to any one of us. If he did, I'd be more concerned -- but I really do think he'll be gone soon. So don't distress yourself too much, my friend. Just focus on what you know to be true, instead of worrying about what may or may not be." She paused briefly, before saying with finality: "And besides, I don't believe your grandpapa would like it if he saw you fretting over the future like this."

Kaethe felt as though a stone had dropped in her chest at the mention of her grandfather, and she only barely suppressed a sigh: for she knew that Mrs. Armani was right. "... alright," she finally said with immense reluctance.

"That's the spirit." Mrs. Armani's smile returned, and she patted Kaethe's arm. "Now, what do you say we finish up with the rest of these? We've been talking so long that Carlo is probably wondering where his vegetables have gone, poor man."

" _Ja_ , let's do."

 

Shortly after the worst of the dinner rush, Kaethe finished her shift at the restaurant. "Goodbye, everyone!" she called as she left. "I'll see you in the morning, Mrs. Armani!"

" _Addio_ , Kaethe!" Mrs. Armani called back cheerily amongst a slew of replies. "Have a good evening!"

Kaethe smiled as she left through the back door, exiting into the back alley behind the restaurant. She quickly glanced around, knowing that unsavory characters hiding in the back at dusk were not unexpected, and upon finding none walked out of the back and onto the sidewalk behind the restaurant. She kept up a brisk pace, her black heels clicking as she went along.  _I'll need to drop those books off,_  she thought,  _but it's so late... oh, I can just do it tomorrow, I suppose. I won't be able to do more than that until Wednesday or Thursday, anyway..._  She sighed.  _I had hoped that I could go tonight, but I'm really very tired, and things just happen, I suppose._  She continued with her musings from earlier as she kept walking, thinking of Mr. Bleu again:  _That man... he's so strange. Oh, I know Mrs. Armani told me not to worry about him, but I can't help but think about him._

At that moment, Kaethe came to the stoplight near the laundromat. She stopped, still thinking to herself as she waited for the light to turn green:  _I know Mrs. Armani's right -- Grandpapa wouldn't want me to worry, but--_

Suddenly, she caught the faint scent of cigarette smoke, and a voice broke into her train of thought: "Fancy meeting you here again, Miss Daube."

Kaethe jumped, spinning on her heel, only to find Mr. Bleu himself smiling at her. "Ah! Mr. Bleu!" she exclaimed, feigning some surprised delight in order to hide her shock at discovering him. "Hello! How... interesting that we should meet again."

He chuckled a little. "Indeed. Not to be intrusive, but might I ask where you're going by yourself at this hour?"

"Just home is all." Kaethe's voice was so bright that she managed to disguise its clipped quality. "My apartment isn't far from here."

"Ahhh, I see." He smiled. "I'd offer to walk you there, but I'm late for a dinner engagement with someone."

 _Interesting,_  Kaethe thought, her suspicion rising. "Well, I hope you enjoy your 'dinner engagement' as you called it."

" _Merci_ , mademoiselle. I hope so, too -- it's actually got to do with my line of work, so hopefully the food is redeeming."

Kaethe laughed a bit, alarmed that her laugh sounded so hollow. "That's a shame, but food is a small comfort, I suppose." She smiled. "Well, I won't keep you any longer -- I don't want to make you late." She did a small curtsy of sorts, one leg behind the other as she bowed a tiny bit and extended an arm slightly before standing up straight. " _Guten abend_ ,  _Herr Blau._ " This time, she spoke in German with neither restraint nor shame -- for she was addressing him as she would any other person, not as a customer.

Despite the streetlight beside the stop casting only the faintest illumination, Kaethe noticed that Mr. Bleu looked somewhat surprised -- but his expression quickly faded, and he nodded respectfully. "Likewise, Miss Daube." He was silent for a brief moment, before he said with a smile: "I hope this is not the last we see of each other.  _Bonsoir,_ mademoiselle _._ " And with that, he slipped into the ever-growing darkness beyond the boundaries of the street lamp's light and was gone.

Upon his departure, Kaethe released a breath she hadn't even realized she had been holding in. " _Ach du lieber Himmel_ ," she whispered to herself. She stared ahead for a moment, before realizing that the light had turned green, and quickly scurried across the street, biting her thumbnail as she did.  _Lord in heaven, he's so_ odd _. I hope that Mrs. Armani's right about him, and he's gone by next week._

Soon, however, Kaethe was to discover that this was not to be the case.


	3. 03

The next morning began just as the previous one had -- Kaethe got up, walked to the laundromat, and showed up early for work as always. " _Guten Morgen_ , Mrs. Armani!" she called, just as she had the morning before. "How did the rest of the night go?"

"Good morning, Kaethe!" Mrs. Armani called in her usual greeting, just as she had before. "Ah, last night went well, as it usually does." Her eyes twinkled as she came from the back room with a stack of folded clothes in her arms. "Your Mr. Bleu showed up at the restaurant last night."

Kaethe's early morning smile faded into a pensive frown. "Did he, now?" she said, her voice taking on a distinct airy aloofness. "Interesting."

"I don't know that there's anything interesting about it -- every man needs to eat, even men in blue suits that strike you as being an oddity,  _mia cara_ ," Mrs. Armani laughed.

"No, I know! It's just..." Kaethe briefly fell silent as she removed her coat, briefly unsure of whether or not to disclose the details of her encounter with Mr. Bleu, before she finally decided to drop the subject: "Never mind."

Mrs. Armani raised an eyebrow, chuckling as she shook her head. "Alright, Kaethe." She set the stack of clothes down on the counter, gesturing to the back room. "Before we completely stop talking about him, would you do me a favor by grabbing a rack and hanging up those suits he dropped off yesterday?"

"Of course." Kaethe walked to the back room, coat and purse slung over her arm, putting each in their respective places of belonging. With this accomplished, she turned on her heel, grabbing a moveable rack as she did so, and walked to the very back where recently dry-cleaned items were stored -- and upon doing so, her eye immediately came to rest on  _them_...

... the blue suits from the previous day, hanging nearby in near-pristine condition.

Kaethe bit the inside of her cheek as she slowly approached the rack, slightly intimidated by the immense uniformity of the suits.  _It must be awfully dull to have so many suits that are exactly identical,_  she thought to herself as she eyed the suits on their hangers.  _Still, to each their own, I suppose._  Raising an eyebrow, she sighed to herself as she began to gingerly transfer them from the fixed rack to the smaller moveable one.

At that moment, the bell at the front of the store rang, and Kaethe heard the unmistakable sound of Anise and Stella walking in -- namely unmistakable because of Stella's vibrant post-Monday greeting. "GOOD MORNING, EVERYONE!" she trilled, her voice echoing through every part of the laundromat. "HOW ARE WE ALL ON THIS SOGGY TUESDAY?"

Mrs. Armani's laughter rang out. "Good morning, Stella!" Kaethe heard her answer. "I'm doing well on this, as you said,  _soggy_  morning. What about you?"

"Oh, I'm doing FANTASTIC! You know, seeing as how..."

The dialogue faded out as Stella's volume decreased, and soon Kaethe could only hear snatches of conversation from the back of the room. She smiled, shaking her head at Stella's early morning energy, and chuckled as she continued placing the blue suits on the rack.  _Enough energy for the rest of us, as always,_  she thought.  _Gracious, what would it be like without Stella? Or any of us, for that matter?_   She considered this briefly, before dismissing the thought as quickly as it had appeared.  _Well, I suppose some of us will leave someday -- but not so soon. Not yet._  And with that, she placed the last suit on the rack and forgot her train of thought as she went on with her commencements of the day -- once again unaware of how soon she would discover how horribly wrong she was.

 

Just as the day before, the daily plans were discussed amongst the laundromat employees (with the addition of Maria, whose son had recovered enough for the both of them to return to their respective occupations), and the establishment opened at seven. The typical Tuesday procedures went on as usual, and everything ran smoothly, as it always did -- well, except for one thing.

"Where is Mr. Bleu?" Stella exclaimed during a lull in business as she, Anise, and Kaethe sorted through dry-cleaning. She threw up her hands in slight exasperation. "He was supposed to be here  _three hours_ ago!"

"Odd -- he's usually very punctual," Anise commented. "Wonder what's keeping him?"

"I dunno -- but I have to say, I'm a lot less impressed by his fancy ways." Stella made a great show of fluttering her eyes, and dramatically placed the back of her hand against her forehead as she did a poor impersonation of Mr. Bleu's accent: " _'Bonjour_ , ladies! I'm French, and I hope you'll excuse my tardiness! Would you like a baguette to help remedy your grievances? Hon hon hon.'"

Anise burst into laughter, nearly dropping the blazer she was holding. "Stella,  _honestly_!" she scolded after she had finally stopped laughing.

Stella grinned, alternating between raising her left and right eyebrows. "'Hon hon hon,'" she repeated, making Anise begin wheezing with laughter again.

Kaethe, meanwhile, only cracked a faint smile at this exchange. Normally, she would have found Stella's ridiculous antics far more amusing, but today she was far more occupied with trying to distract herself from thinking about the ever-growing mystery surrounding Mr. Bleu. Unfortunately, it hadn't worked thus far, as his lateness in picking up the suits had caused quite a stir amongst the other girls (who, Kaethe had discovered, were  _also_  very interested in finding more about him).  _The plot only continues to thicken,_  she thought as she carefully placed a dress on a hanger and hung it up.

"He's a character, no?" Maria commented in her soft Mexican accent as she walked into the back, holding a stack of towels. She raised an eyebrow before she set down the stack, using a hand to sweep a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. "He has talked to me every single Monday he came in except for yesterday, and that's only because I wasn't there." She frowned, drumming her nails on the counter nearby, her dark brown eyes thoughtful as she added, "He was nice, but strange."

"Baguette," Stella whispered loudly.

"What?" Maria's face held nothing but confusion.

"... never mind."

At that moment, the sound of the door rang distantly. They all froze, staring at each other in wide-eyed silence until Anise asked somberly, "Ladies, if we're all back here,  _who's running the counter?_ "

"... Marcia? I... don't know."

"Well,  _someone's_  gotta see if he's here or not," Stella said staunchly. "So who's going to check?"

"I will," Kaethe said, speaking up for the first time. "I'll see you all shortly." And without waiting for any of them to respond, she quickly walked out of the back.  _I wonder if it's him?_

Sure enough, as soon as she walked out, Kaethe caught sight of Mr. Bleu patiently waiting at the counter (which, to Kaethe's dismay, was  _completely_   _empty_ ). He appeared unconcerned, and smiled amiably at Kaethe when he caught sight of her. "Good day, Miss Daube," he said calmly.

"Likewise, Mr. Bleu," Kaethe said flusteredly, her face going pink. "I'm very sorry you've had to wait, sir. Your suits will be out shortly."

"Ah, no worries." He chuckled. "I'm late myself anyway."

 _That's an understatement if I ever heard one,_  Kaethe thought a bit sourly, but she kept on smiling and gave a nod of understanding. "Thank you for being patient, sir. Just a minute, please..." She turned on her heel to go to the back -- but halted mid-step, barely suppressing a sigh of exasperation.

Stella was poking her head out of the back room, raising her eyebrows in alternating intervals as she had been earlier, grinning as she did so.

"Get the rack with the suits," Kaethe mouthed to her.

Stella arched a single eyebrow, then shrugged and briefly vanished. A moment later, there was a comically obnoxious creaking sound, and Stella exited the back wheeling the rack of suits. "Here you are, sir," she said with a winning smile as she came to a stop.

Mr. Bleu brightened. "Ah, thank you, mademoiselle!"

"You're welcome, sir. Have a good day!" And with that, Stella retreated into the back room with a dash.

"Here we are." Kaethe smiled pleasantly enough as she went behind the counter and rang up the transaction. "That will be... $17.84."

A thoughtful look came onto Mr. Bleu's face, and he took out a twenty dollar bill and handed to Kaethe, studying her as she got out change. "Have you been enjoying your book?" he asked suddenly.

Startled, Kaethe looked up from counting out some coins. "Beg pardon, sir?"

"Your book.  _Emma._  I noticed it in your bag last night, but didn't get a chance to ask you if you were enjoying it."

For a solid five seconds, Kaethe was a deer in the headlights as she frantically tried to remember if she  _had_  let her copy of  _Emma_ be visible. "Oh! Um, yes, I am," she stammered awkwardly as she tried to make a smooth recovery. "I'm re-reading it, actually."

"Really?" He smiled again. "Interesting."

Kaethe bit her lip, breaking eye contact with him as she continued counting out the change. "That's $2.16," she finally said, handing him his change (two dollar bills, a dime, a nickel, and a penny) and the ten suits he had dropped off. She smiled, trying to mask her discomfort. "Have a lovely day, sir."

"Thank you, Miss Daube. Good day to you, too." He nodded respectfully to her, and turned to leave -- but then stopped, turned around, and faced her again. "Just a fair warning," he said with no trace of irony. "Expect some... odd occurrences and a potential visitor. Good day." And before Kaethe had even begun to register this bizarre statement, he turned and began to walk away.

"Wh--wait,  _what?!_  Just a moment please!" Kaethe cried.

But alas, it was too late -- for Mr. Bleu had already walked out the door and was gone.

Speechless, Kaethe stared at the door in a slight daze, unsure of how to process Mr. Bleu's cryptic statement.  _"Odd occurrences and a potential visitor?" What on earth--_

"WELL, THEN," Stella shouted from the back room, making Kaethe jump. "BAGUETTE MAN SURE WAS BEING MYSTERIOUS, WASN'T HE?"

"Isn't he always, Stella?" Anise sounded tired as she walked out of the back, with Stella and Maria trailing after her. She crossed her arms, shaking her head. "I really don't like the way he said that stuff."

"Me either," Maria agreed, knitting her brow and looking a tad distressed. "I mean, he's  _strange_ , but I've never heard him say anything like that before..."

"Darn tootin' he hasn't!" Stella said adamantly. "I, for one, thought there wasn't any way for him to possibly get  _any weirder_ , and here I am, proven  _wrong._ "

Kaethe had remained silent up until this point, and finally interrupted: "Let's not linger on this for too much longer, alright?" She sighed wearily as they stared at her with varying degrees of surprise and dismay. "Gossiping won't solve the mystery, and we've got work to do, anyway."

"Kaethe's right," Anise said firmly. "I, for one, am frankly pretty sick of this man disrupting the peace around here, and would be glad to move onto something else."

Stella opened her mouth, looking as though she wanted to say something, before she closed it again and said with immense reluctance, "Okay..."

"Thank you." Anise's eyes held a steely glint. "Hopefully this visit of his will put an end to the strange events around here." She clapped her hands together loudly. "Now, let's get going! Those towels in the back aren't going to fold themselves!"

 

A while later, Mrs. Armani showed up at the laundromat to check up on things. "How're we doing, ladies?" she asked as she walked into the back.

"We're doing great, Mrs. Armani," Maria said with a smile as she ironed out a man's dress shirt. "It's gone pretty smoothly so far today."

"Good, good! Is Lisa here?"

"Not yet," Anise said, sorting through a rack of clothes. "She should be soon, though..."

"Ah, I see. That's fine, I didn't expect her to be--" Mrs. Armani stopped mid-sentence as the front door rang. "Gracious.  _Scusi,_  ladies, I'll be back." She dashed back out front.

"You didn't tell her about baguette man," Stella said in a low sing-song voice as she handed Anise a hanger with a dress on it.

Anise raised an eyebrow. "I'll tell her in a while. I didn't think it was necessary to worry her about something that was really pretty trivial."

Stella looked over at Anise, raising an eyebrow in response before finally shrugging and saying, "Okay, then" before resuming her work.

"Thank you." Anise glanced over at Kaethe. "Kaethe, could you hand me a few more of those spare hangers?"

"Sure!"

For a time, they all continued to work, unsure of what to say to one another -- until Mrs. Armani called from the front of the laundromat, "Ladies, could you come up front?" in a strained voice.

Startled, they all exchanged glances of surprise. Mrs. Armani hardly  _ever_  let on that she was stressed in front of  _anyone_ , let alone during business hours. Without a word, they all filed out, unsure of what to expect.

Kaethe felt an ever-growing sense of unease as she walked out, the kind that one only gets when receiving an unexpected summons of some kind.  _Strange occurrences indeed,_  she thought, only barely keeping herself from anxiously chewing on her thumbnail.

When they all came to the front of the laundromat, they were met with a completely empty store -- except for Mrs. Armani, and a flustered-looking man in a blue uniform. "Can you manage that?" Kaethe heard him say as the girls drew closer.

Mrs. Armani knit her brow. "You said you needed them done by Friday?"

"Yes, at noon."

"The entire truck?"

"Five, actually, ma'am."

The girls exchanged brief glances with each other, and Kaethe was comforted by the fact that she didn't seem to be the only one who was wildly confused by what was going on.

Mrs. Armani, meanwhile, had walked over to the window, and was peering out at the truck parked outside the laundromat, which was a shade of blue that was nearly identical to the man's uniform and had "BLU" written on its side in scuffed white paint. She squinted as she did when she was deep in thought. "Every last scrap of fabric, finished by  _Friday_?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She scoffed, crossing her arms. " _Santo cielo!_  What you're asking me to do is impossible. I'd have to close up shop for the entire week in order to take advantage of all the machines in the laundromat, and even then, we'd be too swamped to pick up laundry and dry-cleaning. Business would suffer. And even if we did, we would be doing nothing but washing clothes for hours and hours." She shook her head. "It simply can't be done."

"Well, as you already know, you and your employees will be paid well by BLU if you accept -- so it would be well worth a one-time exception."

The words  _"and your employees"_  brought a crushing silence throughout the laundromat, and Kaethe knew full well why. While she was lucky to only have to earn enough to support herself and pay for her grandfather's assisted living, many of the other girls were not nearly so fortunate. Most of them worked multiple other jobs, whether it was just saving up to pay for college in the future such as Stella, make ends meet every month as Anise was, or feed their families as Lisa and Maria were.  _However much he's offering could be a Godsend for so many of them -- and Mrs. Armani knows that._

The hush continued, pierced by naught but the man's awkward shuffling until Mrs. Armani finally said, "Do you mind if I go in the back with my employees to discuss this?"

"Of course not."

"Thank you. Excuse us for just a moment, please." She beckoned with a hand, and the girls promptly followed her into the back room. Closing the door behind her, she turned around and inhaled deeply. "Ladies," she said in a low voice, "he's offering to pay us  _fifty grand_  for washing all of the clothes in that truck and four more exactly like them."

There was a collective gasp amongst the girls in the room, which burst into frantic low whispers. Kaethe's hand instinctively flew to her mouth upon hearing the figure.  _Fifty thousand dollars!_  That much money was more than many of them dared to even  _think_ about. Granted, once the job was done, a good chunk of it would go towards the laundromat and the restaurant -- but even after that, there would still be  _plenty_  of money left over, and Kaethe knew Mrs. Armani well enough to know that she'd likely give everyone working at the laundromat a raise, or at  _least_  a bonus at the end of the year.

Mrs. Armani broke up the chatter in the room by continuing: "Frankly, it's not the money I'm worried about, it's actually... well, if we  _can_ do it." She pursed her lips, shaking her head again. "Five trucks, ladies. And we'll only have until Friday to finish." She sighed. "I don't know if it's even possible. But before I decide, I want you ladies to give your input. What do you think?"

For several long moments, there was nothing but silence in the room. Finally, Anise spoke up: "Could I say something, Mrs. Armani?"

"You may, Anise."

Anise was silent for a few moments, before she finally went on: "What if we just closed the laundromat to the public, and kept dry cleaning services available? We could still pick up items from regular customers and then have maybe two people in the back while the rest of us use all the available washers and driers." She glanced back at the rest of the group. "Agree?"

There were nods and murmurs of approval.

"I thought so. And," Anise added, "we just received a bulk shipment of detergent and fabric softener, and the machines have been repaired recently." Her eyes glittered. "It would be hard, but not impossible. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who has ideas." She looked back over at the other girls. "Any other suggestions?"

"Oh! It could be staggered so that loads will start and stop at the same time!" Stella contributed excitedly. "That would speed it up!"

"And when we're finished, we can reopen the laundromat to everyone," Maria added.

Anise nodded. "Exactly."

Mrs. Armani's face softened, and Kaethe could see the gears turning. "That... could actually work... Lisa's supposed to be coming in soon... and if we begin today..." A smile came onto her face. "Yes... maybe it's not so impossible after all. So is it decided, then?"

A murmur of agreement came from all the girls in the room by way of reply, confirmed by an enthusiastic "ABSOLUTELY!" from Stella.

Mrs. Armani's smile widened. "That's what I thought." She walked towards the door, motioning for them to do the same. "Follow me, ladies."

Without a word, they followed her back out front in complete silence. Kaethe's head spun at the sheer amount of work they would be doing.  _Five truckloads of clothes!_  she thought, the realization beginning to sink in fully.  _And for fifty grand..._  She bit her lip as they all stopped, waiting as Mrs. Armani walked up to the man.  _No, I won't think about it. I won't! It'll only keep me from doing what needs to be done._

"Apologies,  _signore_ ," Mrs. Armani said, coming to a stop in front of the man. "Thank you for being patient."

"Of course, ma'am," he replied, shifting a bit on his feet before clearing his throat. "Well... will you take the job?"

Mrs. Armani raised an eyebrow. " _Signore_ ," she said drily, "your employers are crazy if they think anyone could manage what they're asking." She paused, letting silence fall over the laundromat, letting it remain until the man began to open his mouth before she continued: "But I guess I'm even crazier for thinking that it's even remotely possible." She turned towards the group with a devilish smile, nodding towards the front window. "Ladies, could one of you change the sign, please?" She turned around to face the man as Stella dashed to the window and flipped the sign around. "We're closed until we finish this job."


	4. 04

And so began some of the most tedious work Kaethe had ever done.

The very moment the laundromat closed, the employees set straight to work on unloading the truck outside, as well as the second that had arrived ("The other three will come tomorrow," the man in the blue uniform had explained). One by one, crate after crate after crate was removed from the back of each vehicle and placed in the laundromat. It took quite a time, but eventually, the crates were unloaded -- and as soon as the last one was removed, both of the trucks departed.

"Now," said Mrs. Armani as she studied the enormous crates that were now stacked everywhere, "let's open a few and see just what we're dealing with, shall we?" She nodded to Stella. "The honor's all yours,  _mia cara._ "

A wicked grin came across Stella's face. "Why,  _thank you,_ " she said, positively swaggering over to one of the nearby crates, and taking the lid off with a flourish -- but the instant she did, her face fell. "... oh dear."

"Stella, what are you saying 'oh dear' about? Is this just you being theatrical?" Anise said drily.

"Normally that would be the case, but, um..." Stella grimaced as she reached into the crate, and pulled out a sweat-stained blue t-shirt that was covered in bloodstains and dirt. "Not this time."

Maria made a sound of disgust.  _"¡Ay guácala!"_

Anise snatched the filthy shirt from Stella and held it at arm's length, scoffing a bit scornfully. "Ugh. What on  _earth?_ "

 _Took the words right out of my mouth,_  Kaethe thought to herself, equally aghast.

Wrinkling her nose, Mrs. Armani took the shirt, brought it the ever-so- _slightest_  bit close to herself, and began to gently tug at the seams around the sleeves. "I wonder how sturdy it i--"

But she never finished her sentence -- for in that instant, there was a loud  _RRRRRIP_  and the shirt fell to the floor in several pieces.

There was a collective gasp of appallment at the shirt's lack of integrity. "Are they  _all_ like that?" Maria whispered, her eyes wide.

"It would seem so," Stella said, holding up another t-shirt. She pointed to the seams, which were so loose that the shirt was all but falling apart. "And look at _this._ " She reached into the back of the shirt's collar, and revealed its tag. "You see who made this shirt?"

Mrs. Armani retrieved her reading glasses from the pocket of her apron and put them on, before reading the words on the tag aloud: "'Manufactured by Mann Co. in Australia.'"

" _Mann Co.?_ " Lisa repeated with dismay as she came out of the back. She had arrived just as they had finished unloading the truck, and had been putting her things away up until now. "We're gonna be here a while, ain't we?"

" _Yes,_ " Stella said with barely contained hostility that was rare for her. "They make nothing but worthless trash -- and I bet you every last piece of clothing we've got to wash has been made by them."

A somber silence fell over the laundromat as the full realization of the mess in which they had likely been ensnared sank in. However, it stayed this way only briefly as Mrs. Armani spoke up: "Well, regardless of that, we still have work to do, and it certainly won't get done if we continue standing around like this. We've got two days to finish this and fifty grand on the line, ladies, so let's get to it!"

The reminder of the sheer amount of money they had been promised made the girls' despondency fade and become sheer determination. "Yes, Mrs. Armani!" they all chimed, and went to work.

The rest of that day was spent in hard labor. Soon after Mrs. Armani's reminder of the fifty grand, they set up stations and began to dash around as they frantically shoved clothing into all available washing machines and driers. Time itself ceased to exist as naught but a few distinguishable acts were performed: wash, dry, mend (if needed), fold, and repeat...

.... wash, dry, mend, fold, repeat...

... wash, dry, mend, fold, repeat...

... over, and over, and over, and over, and over and over again -- and despite its exciting implications, the work soon settled into a mundane pattern.

The pattern soon led to Kaethe fighting to keep herself from falling victim to her own musings as she did nothing but fold vast quantities of clothes as fast as she could -- and with every other item of clothing falling apart in her hands, it was  _maddening_ beyond words.  _I can't wait for the weekend,_  she thought desperately as she handed the pieces of a button-up shirt to Maria to be mended.

Mercifully, the time passed quickly despite the ever-present monotony -- and before they had even realized it, they had worked through the short remainder of the afternoon and into the evening until almost seven at night. It was then that Mrs. Armani made them stop and told them to go home. "We've gotten a good headstart, and we still have all of tomorrow and the next day," she told them. "That's a job well done. Go home, ladies -- I'll close up shop tonight."

 

And so it went. With the next morning's dawn arrived the three additional trucks of clothing that had been promised, and after they had been unloaded the previous day's madness resumed as the girls returned to dashing about and haphazardly flinging filthy clothes across the laundromat to one another in an attempt to speed up the process. The situation was made ever more ridiculous by the absurdly cheerful Beatles record that Stella had put on in an attempt to make the process more enjoyable -- but after the first batch of clothing was finished, the previous day's pattern of washing, drying, mending, and folding returned, as did its former monotony.

Wash, dry, mend, repeat.

Wash, dry, mend, repeat.

Wash, dry, mend, repeat.

Wash, dry, mend, repeat...

... over, and over, and over, and over again...

Once more, it did not take long for Kaethe to become largely exasperated by the dullness that she and the other girls were wading through, and she found herself longing for a customer to walk through the front door.  _I'd take anyone at this point, even Mr. Bleu -- just to have something to do besides wash these confounded clothes!_  she thought despairingly as she dumped a cupful of detergent into one of the washing machines, shutting the lid, and starting the load.

And the tedium wasn't only affecting Kaethe -- it was beginning to wear on the other girls, too. Anise's tone had become sharp and pointed whenever she was asked questions, Lisa's usual amiable nature had become the slightest bit unusually hostile, Maria constantly muttered to herself in an anxious manner, and Stella... well, Stella was a hot mess to an even greater degree. "This will be the end of me," she groaned despairingly at one point after a pair of pants that she had been holding had ripped in the seat for no apparent reason. "If I'm destined to go to hell, my eternal damnation will be endlessly folding clothes that are bound to tear at any given time without any real cause!"

This statement summed up Kaethe's sentiments almost perfectly. The preposterousness of the matter was nearly too much to bear -- the mountains of laundry surrounding them, the ambience sound of the washers and driers combined with the record of 'Help' playing faintly over the speakers, the clothes all being varying shades out of the same palette of blue -- it all led to an unparalleled and unprecedented air of surrealism. It seemed to her as if though she were in a trance, as if though any instant she would wake up and find that she had only had a horrible dream about having to fold dozens of poorly-made shirts in two days.

Yet against all odds, Wednesday came to pass. The operation continued to run smoothly without incident, with only a brief interruption for lunch before they continued to work -- and once again, they worked into the evening. "Great work today, ladies! I'll close up again tonight!" Mrs. Armani told them again, dismissing them with a wave of the hand. "Go home -- we'll finish this job tomorrow!" And just as before, everyone did as they were told and just went home with tired eyes and hearts weary of folding blue shirts.

 

Thursday morning had the same gentle, rainy weather of both Monday and Tuesday, creating a drowsy, peaceful contrast to the atmosphere inside the laundromat -- for the moment the girls had arrived, they had begun working as fast as they possibly could, and by midmorning, the situation had degenerated into complete and utter chaos. "Guys, we've gotten through four and a half truckloads!" Stella screeched as she hopped up on top of the counter, banging a ladle on a cooking pot. "WE CAN DO THIS!"

"She's right!" Lisa yelled in agreement. "Y'all, we got forty crates to finish, and then we gotta get everything packed up again for tomorrow morning! LET'S DO THIS!"

 _"Raus, raus!"_  Kaethe cried, contributing to the viciously motivational atmosphere.

And thus the madness ensued. For hours, the pattern from the past two days went on, the same dreamlike state settling over the laundromat as dirtied clothes continued to fly and the girls scrambled to finish the work.

Wash, dry, mend, repeat.

Wash, dry, mend, repeat.

Wash, dry, mend, repeat.

Wash, mend, dry--no, wait... dry, mend, repeat.

Wash, dry, mend, repeat (that's more like it).

Wash, dry, mend, repeat.

Wash, dry, mend, repeat...

On and on and on and on, without end. Reality morphed into something new altogether -- blue fabric, frayed threads, loose buttons, broken and stuck zippers, the smell and taste of detergent (yes, the  _taste_ ) -- an endless ocean of the sensations accompanying the quintessential laundromat experience.

And that's how it stayed for hours on end, with an ever-present awareness of the number of crates left to finish... counting down from forty...

... then thirty-five...

... thirty-one...

... twenty-seven...

... twenty...

... seventeen...

... eleven...

... seven...

... five...

... four...

... two--

"THAT'S IT!" Anise shrieked with delight just before noon. "I'VE JUST FOLDED THE LAST SHIRT!"

Dead silence. Then, Maria's shaky voice saying what everyone was thinking to themselves: "It's over...? Just like that? But... surely there has to be more..."

"No... she's right," Stella said, eyes wide with disbelief. "That stack she folded... that was the last load." She smiled, laughing a little as tears came to her eyes. "It's over... guys, we made it... the fifty grand is ours..."

Devastating silence resounded through the laundromat with those words:  _"The fifty grand is ours."_  Then, one of the girls gave a loud whoop, and they all began to cheer and dance around before they hugged and cried and talked about how glad they were that the ordeal was over.

All of them except for Kaethe, that is. She stood apart from the other girls with a knit brow and an overwhelming sense that the celebration was not meant for her.  _I don't understand,_  she thought a bit desperately.  _I helped just as much as anyone else here did. And yet... for some reason I've got this feeling that for me, this somehow isn't over just yet... but why?_

Suddenly, Stella spoke up, interrupting Kaethe's thoughts: "Kaethe, get over here! You need your hug before we start packing those crates!"

Smiling, Kaethe walked over and obliged with a laugh as she joined the group hug, but her impending sense of something more happening to her would not go away.


	5. 05

Kaethe's thoughts continued to haunt her with no promise of ever leaving -- not after she left the ecstatic embrace of the girls, not after they had finished packing the boxes, not after Mrs. Armani praised them when she had come in at three and discovered that the job was finished, not when she walked to the restaurant with Mrs. Armani for the first time in two days, not even when she finally left the restaurant and went home.  _I just don't understand,_  she thought in dismay for the second time that day as she walked along.  _I shouldn't feel like this... and yet..._  She sighed, shaking her head.  _No matter. By tomorrow morning, I'll feel better about this. I have to, or I'll lose my mind._

And she was mostly right (at least about that, anyway). By the next day, the majority of her thoughts had left her after BLU had come by and picked up the crates of washed clothing at noon, and she thought very little of what had been troubling her before -- for she had more important matters on her mind, especially by the time four o'clock came around. "Have a good evening, Mrs. Armani!" she said with a wave of the hand and a smile.

"You do the same _,_  Kaethe!" Mrs. Armani called cheerfully amidst the farewells from the other girls. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon!"

Kaethe smiled to herself as she went out the front door, sighing happily as she looked up at the gray sky above her.  _I'd better hurry,_ she thought to herself as she began making her way down the street.  _I don't want to be late again like I was last week._

 

A library visit and a bike ride later, Kaethe was following a young nurse down the halls of the nearby nursing home. "He just woke up from his afternoon nap," the nurse said, "and he's down here, keeping away from the other residents."

Kaethe smiled the tiniest bit. "No different than the usual, then."

The nurse chuckled a little. "No. Your grandfather is an interesting man, Miss Daube."

" _Ja,_  he is." Kaethe laughed a bit. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

The nurse smiled a little -- then, suddenly brightening, she gestured to a door ahead of them. "Here we are -- they said he was in here." She walked up to the door and gave it a solid knock as she asked in a firm but not unkindly voice, "Mr. Daube, may I come in?"

"Just a moment!" a German-accented voice dearly familiar to Kaethe's ears called. From behind the door, there was a sound of papers rustling wildly -- then the sound stopped as quickly as it began. " _Ja_ , come in!"

The nurse reached for the doorknob and opened the door. She beckoned to Kaethe with a hand as a silent way of saying "follow me", and Kaethe obliged by trailing behind her.

Upon entering the room, Kaethe was met with the ever-familiar and endearing sight of her grandfather sitting in an armchair across the room. He was a distinguished-looking older gentleman with a chiseled, craggy profile with a straight nose and thin lips, and had laughing gray eyes lined with wrinkles, gray hair combed off to the side, a neatly trimmed beard, and a pair of round-rimmed spectacles rested on his nose. He wore a sweater vest with a tie over a button-up shirt, dress pants, and his favorite pair of slippers, which was the outfit Kaethe was most used to seeing him wear. He was preoccupied with a newspaper he held in one hand, and did not look up as he calmly asked, " _Ja_ , what is it?"

"Mr. Daube, your granddaughter is here to see you."

He looked up from the paper with a start. "Oh! It's Friday  _already_?" Delight spread across his face when he saw Kaethe. "Ahh, it is!" he cried with delight. "Kaethe! Hello,  _Liebling_!"

Kaethe couldn't help but smile at his distractedness. "Hello, Grandpapa," she said, her heart bursting with happiness as she crossed the room and bent down to hug him. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well, my dear," he said, smiling as he hugged her back and pressed a quick kiss on her cheek. "And you?"

"I'm doing well, as usual, thank you."

At that moment, the nurse spoke up: "I'm going to go and give you two some time alone. If you need something, just call and I or one of the other staff members will be around."

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind," Kaethe said with a smile.

The nurse nodded, smiling. "Enjoy your visit." And with that, she walked out, carefully closing the door behind her.

The moment she was gone, Kaethe gave her grandfather a confidential smile. "Hiding in here from everyone, I see." She looked around at the extremely full bookshelves surrounding them before beginning to move another armchair over so she could sit next to him. "I don't blame you, I quite like it in here -- it's very library-ish."

"Quietest room in the whole place," Grandpapa said as he watched her scoot the chair across the rug on the floor. He grinned, his gray eyes twinkling. "No need to listen to the ladies chatter on about knitting patterns and Frau Hepburn if I don't want to."

Kaethe laughed, shaking her head as she took a seat. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you."

"And I you, darling," he said with a smile. "Gracious, I hope you'll forgive me for forgetting about today. I am but an old man, after all."

"There's nothing to forgive, Grandpapa. You did nothing wrong."

He chuckled. " _Danke, Liebe,_  you're very kind, as always."

"You're welcome, Grandpapa." She smiled, laughing a little. "How have you been?"

"Ah, about the same as always. Avoiding gossip, eating, taking naps -- just being old in general." He squinted a bit, holding up his newspaper for Kaethe to see. "I was working on today's crossword when you arrived. It's not very good -- too easy, I think. But then again, I've always been more of one for a challenge, so I suppose that's only a minor inconvenience."

"Well, before I forget--" Kaethe took her bag off her shoulder, carefully extracted the two worn hardback books she had gotten from the library, and held them out to her grandfather--"perhaps these will help?"

Her grandfather gasped softly. "Oh, how kind of you," he murmured as he took the books from her. He adjusted his spectacles as he read the faded titles on the front covers: " _Twelfth Night_  and  _Macbeth._  Ooh... both excellent ones." He smiled happily. "I'll enjoy re-reading these.  _Danke, Liebling._ " He put his newspaper and books on the end table beside his chair, and looked over at Kaethe. "And how has your week been?"

"Ah..." Kaethe's face fell at the thought of the past week's events. "Well... definitely interesting."

"Oh?" Her grandfather perked up a bit. "How so?"

"Well... it's been rather eventful."

"Hmmm... that's vague." He smiled a little. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"... oh,  _ja!_ " Kaethe burst out emphatically before proceeding to tell him about all that had happened -- Mr. Bleu's bizarre repertoire, the mystery surrounding him, the strange warning she'd received, and the vast amounts of clothing the laundromat had washed. "So you see," she explained after she had finished telling her tale, "this week has been rather unusual."

Her grandfather had been listening patiently, a thoughtful look on his face all the while, and was now looking at Kaethe intently. "You said you had never seen Herr Blau before, but the others had?"

She shook her head. " _Nein,_  I was in the back room all the other times he had dropped off those suits."

"Those suits..." Grandpapa stared ahead, shaking his head and snorting a bit scornfully. "Pah! The French must be even more peculiar than I remember, because there is absolutely no reason why any man should have  _ten_ identical blue pinstriped suits -- unless you're a very odd clown, I suppose." He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Then again," he conceded with a theatrical flair as Kaethe began to laugh, "I am an old man with neither knowledge nor understanding of today's fashions, so there's that..."

"No, I agree! I don't see why you'd need more than one -- unless there's some new identical suit trend that I don't know about yet. Or if you--" She stopped mid-sentence, something occurring to her very suddenly. "... or if you needed them for work..."

"Hmmm...  _ja_ , that's true enough," Grandpapa said thoughtfully. He chuckled, shaking his head. "And the clothes..."

" _Yes!_  Five trucks, Grandpapa!  _Five!_ " she exclaimed in exasperation. "I'll be seeing blue in my dreams for weeks!"

He shook his head, smiling. "Gracious me. Mrs. Armani sounds as though she has handled the excitement very gracefully -- but you, on the other hand..." He trailed off, a teasing grin on his face. "Well..."

"Oh, stop that!" Kaethe laughed. "I actually did pretty well under the circumstances -- but Stella... well, need I go into that?"

" _Nein_ , I don't believe so," Grandpapa laughed as well. "I'll use my imagination in that regard." His eyes were alight with amusement. "Well, what's done is done. That mess is finally over, and hopefully that rascal Herr Blau stops causing such a ruckus."

"Anise said the same thing shortly before the five trucks showed up, actually."

"... oh, dear," he murmured. "She's a wise girl, but I best not repeat her words, lest I summon  _another_ five trucks of blue clothing."

Kaethe laughed again. "I'd forgive you if that were to happen, but I'd prefer if you didn't do that."

Grandpapa adjusted his glasses, an expression of mock graveness on his face. "I'll do my utmost to prevent it."

The two of them laughed for a while at this statement -- until Kaethe began to wheeze, and her grandfather erupted into a coughing fit. "Oh, I haven't laughed like that in a while," Kaethe said a bit wearily, but not unhappily -- for her eyes shone with joy. "I love visiting with you."

"I do too,  _Liebling._ "

With this exchange, the conversation transitioned into calm, the two of them chatting amiably and reminiscing at times as they always did -- however, after a time, Kaethe noticed that her grandfather's smile had suddenly begun to fade. " _Opa_ , what's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing much." Grandpapa sighed a little. "I just wish I could see you more, but I'm grateful for the time I get with you."

"I know," Kaethe said, trying not to guiltily look away. "I'm working on saving up more money so I don't have to work at the restaurant in the evenings anymore -- that way, I can see you more often." She sighed, biting her lip. "I miss you, after all."

"Oh,  _Liebling_... I miss you, too." He sighed. "Still, things will get better, I think. I firmly believe that sooner or late, matters tend to right themselves." A gentle smile came onto his face. "So don't worry too much, alright? You're still young -- you've got time to figure this out."

The smile returned to Kaethe's face. "Thank you, Grandpapa."

"You're welcome, my dear."

The two of them sat in silence for several moments, content to simply be in one another's company for the time being, and as they did, Kaethe's thoughts drifted briefly.  _He's right. I'm awfully silly to worry so much... Everything will turn out just fine._

The quiet continued for a few moments longer before her grandfather finally spoke: "Kaethe,  _Liebe_?"

Returning from her musings, Kaethe looked over at him. "Yes, Grandpapa?"

He reached over to the end table, and picked up the two books that Kaethe had handed to him earlier. "Do you think you could read to me for a while?" He smiled. "I like the voices you pick for the characters."

"Of course, Grandpapa, whatever you like."

So for a while, Kaethe read aloud to her grandfather. It was one of their favorite things to do when they had their visits -- they both loved Shakespeare and knew many works by heart from having read them numerous times. The experience was made even more enjoyable by Kaethe enthusiastically reading each line, choosing a different voice for each character while her grandfather smiled in anticipation of each part as he listened. And so for a time, the two of them left their world behind and dove into another that was long gone.

 

Time passed quickly, the seconds and minutes becoming hours as they were filled with Kaethe's reading -- and before either Kaethe or her grandfather even realized it, it was nearly a quarter to eight, marking the time that Kaethe needed to leave. "My, how time does fly while you're here, my dear," Grandpapa said a bit sorrowfully as Kaethe began putting on her coat. "I'll miss you until next week, as always."

"Me too, Grandpapa." Kaethe smiled a little sadly. "I'm sorry I didn't bring you any sketches this week... I've just had so little time."

"Ohh, no need for you to fret about that,  _Liebe --_  there's always next week if you have time." He smiled wistfully. "I'm just happy I got to see you, and I know you'll be back next week."

"Of course -- always." She leaned over and hugged him. "Enjoy your books, okay?"

"Yes, of course I will." He gently patted her back before they separated from their hug, smiling at her. "Stay safe. Stay out of trouble. I think you can manage that,  _ja_?"

"Of course." She pressed a quick kiss onto his cheek before saying, "I've really got to go now. Goodbye, Grandpapa. I love you."

"I love you too. Take care as you're going home." He took her hand and gave it one last affectionate squeeze. " _Auf wiedersehen, Liebling_."

Kaethe smiled a little in order to hide her sadness, reciprocating the squeeze. " _Auf Wiedersehen_ ," she said in a hushed voice, and when her grandfather let go of her hand, she finally brought herself to exit the room and leave him.

 

A time later, Kaethe was back at her apartment. Upon arriving back home, she had taken a bath and was now in some oversized clothing that she only wore in the evening, her light blonde hair falling to past her shoulders as she sat by the window and sketched in a notepad.

She took a quick sip of the mug of hot soup she had sitting on the windowsill and resumed her vague strokes on the paper with the pencil as she mulled over her visit with her grandfather.  _I'm so glad that he's doing well,_ she thought as she erased a few stray lines on her paper. _I don't know if I could live with myself if he weren't content._  She exhaled forcefully as she glanced over at the dimly lit apartment beyond, her eye taking in the untidy stacks of sheet music, books, and crates of other miscellany as her mind wandered.

Despite the fact it had been nearly two years since Grandpapa had gone to live that the nursing home, it felt alien and unjust for Kaethe to only see him once a week. She had grown up accustomed to her grandfather's mannerisms and the routines that accompanied them -- the sound of violin music as she came home in the afternoons, pages of the daily paper being turned, a conversation with one of Grandpapa's friends -- and the absence of that activity and his presence made the place deafeningly silent and achingly hollow.

And that silence and hollowness in their turn... well, at times, they made for a great deal of loneliness.

Suddenly, there was a rumble of thunder outside that interrupted Kaethe's thoughts. Instinctively, she looked away from the messy room and back over at the window, half-expecting something to be there for some strange reason.

Naturally, there was nothing -- only drops of rain beginning to smack against the glass, with an odd backlight cast by the streetlamp just outside the window.

She released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding in, watching the raindrops hit the glass pane before returning to her drawing and slipping back into her musings.  _I am glad that I got to see Grandpapa despite the events of this week,_ she thought to herself as she sketched a line.  _Gracious me. It seems that one thing led to another after Herr Blau showed up_. She sighed at the memory of all that had happened.  _At least that's past, now._  She knit her brow.  _It is interesting, though, that his last name means "blue" and then that company_ named _BLU showed up... I wonder... is it possible he works there? Or even owns the company?_  She considered this for a moment, before finally deciding,  _No, surely that can't be the case. That would be too obvious... wouldn't it?_

At that moment the clock on the far wall chimed, announcing the time and reminding Kaethe that she ought to go to bed. She heeded its suggestion, snapping her journal shut and downing the rest of her soup in its mug.  _Whatever the case, what's past is past,_ she firmly admonished herself as she set her mug down on the window sill, and turned to draw the curtains shut.  _I seriously need to--_  She suddenly froze, staring at what had caught her eye outside the window.

Despite the downpour, Kaethe had managed to see the outline of two silhouetted figures just outside of the illumination cast by the streetlamp. From what she could tell, one of the figures was very tall and thin, and the other was shorter and of a more average build. The two of them were under a large umbrella, seeming as though they were... having a conversation?

Furrowing her brow, Kaethe took hold of one of the curtains as she cautiously watched. ...  _What on Earth?_

The shorter figure seemed to be using a single hand to motion a bit wildly, while the other figure simply stood there -- likely listening to what the other was saying. This went on for a time before the tall figure reached out and placed a hand on the shoulder of the short figure, causing all motioning to cease completely, and they both became completely still.

This went on for a time, the two of them just standing under the umbrella. What they were  _actually_  doing was rather unclear -- it seemed that they were talking, but there was no way to be sure -- but after several minutes of this, they shook hands with one another, and the taller figure slipped out from under the umbrella and seemed to completely vanish into the shadows. With this, the shorter figure turned the opposite direction and walked back past the apartment complex, only stopping briefly to glance at the building before continuing on and melting into the darkness beyond the light of the streetlamp.

Just like that, something had become nothing -- as though the two figures had never even been there.

Drawing a sharp breath, Kaethe very slowly closed the curtains, picked up the empty mug, and walked away from the window.  _I have no idea what I just saw,_ she thought wearily as she went into the kitchen, walking over to the sink and rinsing the mug,  _but what I do know is that I need to get some sleep and_ stop  _obsessing about what happened this week._  She bit her lip, shut off the faucet, turned on her heel, and switched off the lights as she went to her room.  _The weekend is here. The week is over. What's done is done. I need to let it go._

And she did, but only for a short time -- for what came not long after made the past week  _extremely_ difficult to let go of for a  _very_  long time. 


	6. 06

The next morning, Kaethe's day began with work. After going to bed, she had slept for what seemed like an eternity and not risen until nearly nine. When she had finally gotten out of bed and dressed herself (after several minutes of waking up and then stretching luxuriously) she had gone into the kitchen and fixed herself a quick breakfast of toast, eggs, and milk before starting her housework for the morning -- dusting, sweeping, organizing -- whatever she thought needed to be done, she did it.

Now, she was standing at the sink, washing the breakfast dishes and listening to the radio as she considered potential plans for the day.  _I've got to work at the restaurant today, but that's only for a short part of the afternoon,_  she thought as she rinsed off a plate.  _After that, I could go to the park and do some sketches -- I haven't done that in a while. Or I could go to one of the bookshops in the older district and look around. Or--_

At that moment, the phone rang. Startled, Kaethe quickly brought her hands out of the soapy water, dried them on a nearby dish towel, and dashed over to pick up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Kaethe," Mrs. Armani said on the other end of the line, sounding a little tired. "Good morning,  _mia cara._ "

"Oh!" Kaethe exclaimed, trying to hide her confusion. "Mrs. Armani! Good morning to you, too."

She heard Mrs. Armani chuckle weakly. "Listen, Kaethe... I'm going to be quite frank here: is there any way you could come to the restaurant within the next hour?"

"Oh, no..." Kaethe felt her heart drop in her chest. "Is there something wrong? Do you need me to come in extra early?"

"No, I don't need you for work. It's... " She sighed. "... someone here wanted me to get ahold of you so the two of you can discuss something  _immediately_."

"... 'someone'?"

" _Sì_. I-It's too complicated for me to explain beyond that," she said, sounding very flustered. "Anyway, can you do that? Come in soon, I mean."

"Yes, of course," Kaethe said, her voice growing very quiet. "I'll be there shortly."

"Thank you, Kaethe." Mrs. Armani sighed again. "I'm sorry, I didn't think I was going to have to call you in this morning -- but here we are."

"It's okay, Mrs. Armani, really. I'll be down there in a while."

"Alright, Kaethe. Thank you. See you then." And with that, Mrs. Armani hung up.

Kaethe bit her lip as she put the phone back on its receiver.  _And to think that I was genuinely certain this week couldn't get any stranger,_  she thought to herself as she rose to go change into something nicer than her housework clothes.  _Clearly, I was wrong._

 

A short while later, Kaethe walked into the restaurant. Upon entry, she moved past the few employees who were working and poked her head into the kitchen where Carlo Armani was working. "Good morning, Carlo!" she called cheerfully.

Carlo paused in the midst of tossing some pasta into a pot of boiling water to give her a grin and a wave, and replied cheerfully, "Ah, hello, Kaethe! You're looking for Signora Armani, yes?"

She nodded. "I am actually, yes."

His grin widened a little as he gave her a knowing nod. "She's in the back room."

" _Danke,_ Carlo. Best of luck with today!"

" _Prego_ , Kaethe." With this statement, he returned to his cooking.

Kaethe took this action as her cue to leave and continued into the back room, her heeled shoes clicking softly as she went along. She stopped when she finally reached the door to the room that served as Mrs. Armani's office of sorts and raised her hand to knock -- but stopped, realizing that there were voices coming from inside. Surprised and curious, she let her hand slowly fall as she listened.

"So, you've already said she's a very hard worker, punctual, et cetera," a strange woman's voice was saying. "I take it you mean that you've never had trouble with her, right?"

"Absolutely not," came Mrs. Armani's voice in unwavering reply. "In the twenty-some years I've been in business, I don't think I've ever had a more reliable employee. She's smart, dedicated, and I honestly couldn't tell you that there's a single bad bone in the girl's body."

"Mhm," was the somewhat detached response, and Kaethe thought she could hear the tip of a writing utensil scratching across a piece of paper. "And you'd personally trust her with confidential information?"

 _Confidential information?_  Kaethe thought, the ghost of a frown coming onto her face.  _What on--_

"Oh, I'd say so, yes," Mrs. Armani agreed. "Like I said -- not a bad bone in the girl's body. She does whatever it takes to get the job done."

There was silence from inside the room, and then the strange woman asked, "Anything? As in, anything for her line of work?"

"From my experience with her, yes."

"Interesting," the woman murmured, and the same scratching noise from earlier was heard. "Well, really, I think that's all I need to know until she arrives. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Armani -- on behalf of TF Industries, it's greatly appreciated."

"You're very welcome. As I've said, she's very punctual, so she ought to be here soon--"

It was at this moment that Kaethe decided that it would be best if she finally made herself known, lifted her hand, and solidly knocked on the door.

"Oh! That must be her," Mrs. Armani commented, and Kaethe noted the unusual quietness of her voice. There was the sound of shoes clicking, and the door opened to reveal Mrs. Armani's smiling face. "Miss Daube! Hello, my dear!"

"Hello, Mrs. Armani," Kaethe said as she returned the smile, relieved that her sudden agitation wasn't  _too_  visible.  _Mrs. Armani_ never _calls me Miss Daube,_  she thought in utter shock as she went on in her usual graceful manner: "Sorry I'm late -- traffic was... well."

"No, no, no, you're fine! Come in, come in!" She waved Kaethe into the office and closed the door behind Kaethe after she entered. "Thank you for coming in on such short notice, it was very important." She motioned off to the side, and when Kaethe turned to look she noticed the woman who had been standing there the whole time. "Miss Daube," Mrs. Armani went on, "this is Miss Pauling from TF Industries."

Miss Pauling gave Kaethe a flat smile. "Miss Daube," she said pleasantly enough. "I've heard a lot about you. It's great to finally meet you."

Kaethe tilted her head a bit as she took in Miss Pauling's appearance -- a purple blouse, black skirt with an accompanying wide-buckled belt, black pumps, dark hair pulled back into a neat bun, and blue-green eyes behind cat-eye glasses that held an unnerving calm.  _It suits her almost too well,_  she thought to herself before she smiled and replied amiably, "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Pauling."

"I'm glad to hear that." Pauling's smile twitched a bit before she went on: "If you don't mind, I'd like to skip the pleasantries and ask you some questions in private." Her words sounded as though they were scripted.

"... questions?" Kaethe frowned. "Is this an interview?"

"You could call it that."

"I..." Kaethe knit her brow. "I never... asked for an interview with anyone."

"We're well aware, and that's why your time here would be much appreciated."

Kaethe cast her eyes off to the side, meaning to exchange a look with Mrs. Armani -- but to her slight shock and dismay, Mrs. Armani was just slipping out of the office. She glanced over at Kaethe, smiling and mouthing "You'll be fine" before she shut the door behind her and the latch clicked.

That left Kaethe with Pauling -- and no other choice. "I suppose so, yes," she said after a moment's pause, trying not to sound too weary.

"Fantastic!" Miss Pauling continued to smile blandly as she motioned to the table at the edge of the room with one chair on each side. "Have a seat, please."

Kaethe bit her lip as she nodded and walked over to the table. Pulling out one of the chairs, she sat with her ankles crossed and her back ramrod straight, her eyes on Pauling. "Would it be too much to ask what it is that you're interviewing me about?" she asked carefully as Pauling crossed the room and came over to the table.

"Technically, yes," Pauling answered as she herself took a seat. "The most I'm allowed to say is that..." She hesitated briefly, then went on: "Well, we'll get to that." Her smile widened, becoming ever-more stale as she took out a folder and thumbed through the papers inside. "So, Miss Daube -- I already know a bit about you, but if you wouldn't mind, I'd like  _you_ tell me a little about yourself."

 _"I already know a bit about you."_  Upon hearing those words, Kaethe only just barely restrained herself from uncomfortably fidgeting. "Well, if you only want to know a little, there's not much for me to say," she said, laughing a little nervously. "I've lived here in Boston as long as I can remember -- grew up in this part of town, attended school in this area -- you know, that sort of thing."

"Mmhmm." Pauling was now writing on a clipboard she had taken out when Kaethe had begun talking. She looked up, raising an eyebrow. "You said you grew up here -- but not born here?"

Kaethe shook her head. "No. I came to Boston after my parents were gone -- may they rest in peace -- and my grandfather raised me."

"I see." Pauling continued to write furiously on the clipboard. "So you went to school here?"

"I did, yes. From kindergarten to my senior year."

"Uh huh..." More scribbling, then another question: "And college?"

Kaethe bit her lip at the stinging reminder. "... yes. And no. I... had to drop out in the middle of my sophomore year to take care of my grandfather, you see. His health began to fail, and what with all the medical expenses and such, we... he..." She sighed. "We couldn't afford to keep me in school. So I left, got a couple of jobs to pay for his assisted living and for my apartment, and... here I am."

"Are you planning on going back to your academics and finishing college later?" An intent look was on Miss Pauling's face as she looked up from the clipboard.

"When I can afford it, absolutely. Right now, it's just out of the question."

"Mmm," Pauling murmured thoughtfully, her pencil still moving across the paper on the clipboard. She looked up, her gaze meeting Kaethe's eyes. "What was-- _is,_ " she corrected herself, "your planned major?"

"Communications, with a minor in linguistics."

Pauling's left eyebrow arched unexpectedly, then quickly returned to its original position. "Communications," she repeated to herself, and resumed writing. "What skills do you have that would assist you?"

"German and English are my first and second languages respectively, not to mention that I possess modest sign language proficiency, am familiar with the basics of conversational Spanish and Italian, and am slowly learning French." Kaethe found Pauling's sudden pique in interest somewhat uncomfortable, and she cleared her throat a little awkwardly before saying in a low voice: "I also know very small amounts of Russian -- but it was all self-taught... for, um... rather obvious reasons."

Pauling raised an eyebrow again, but nevertheless nodded in understanding. "Of course." She began to jot down another note, pausing briefly. "Anything else?"

Kaethe bit her lip, thinking for a moment before finally saying, "I'm also familiar with shorthand and Morse code. Once again, self-taught."

Pauling looked a little surprised, but nodded again and wrote it down. "Alright." She looked up again. "Anything else?" she repeated.

The way the question was asked made Kaethe suspect that Pauling was looking for something more than the simple answers that had been given already. "Nothing specific that would directly contribute to any kind of communications position, no."

"Okay." She reached up to adjust her glasses a bit before continuing: "What about team cooperation? How well do you work with others?"

Kaethe considered this question very carefully before she answered. "It depends," she said finally. "Like most people, I think, I would prefer to work with those who are willing to put in as much effort as I contribute, and I dislike the company of unpleasant people as much as the next person." She paused momentarily before she added, " _However_ , regardless of the situation I'll do my best to work with anyone to the best of my abilities if that's what's required of me." She met Pauling's gaze with her own determined one. "So to answer your question, I suppose I work with others fairly well... under  _desirable_ circumstances."

Pauling pressed her lips into a thin line, a clear indication that she knew exactly what Kaethe had been trying to say. "I see," she said crisply, her pen moving across the clipboard once more. "Just a few more questions if you wouldn't mind, please."

"Naturally."

And so the interview continued for a time longer, with Miss Pauling asking more and more questions: did Kaethe have any experience with self-defense, and if so, could she please describe the scenario in which it was required; how well could Kaethe receive information and relay instructions based on that information; what kind of schedule did she have; how many hours of sleep did Kaethe get every night, and what was the minimum that she could function on if necessary, and so on. It seemed as though the onslaught of inquiry might never come to an end, but Kaethe managed to answer every single question she was given as patiently as she could.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Miss Pauling unexpectedly capped her pen with a satisfied nod. "I think that's it."

"Really?"

Pauling nodded again, removing the sheet of paper she had been writing on from the clipboard and putting it inside a folder. "Yes." She smiled a little for the first time since the beginning of the interview. "Thank you for your time, Miss Daube. I apologize that you had to be called in so unexpectedly, but it was absolutely necessary."

 _Absolutely necessary, indeed -- I wouldn't know, because she hasn't so much as told me why this happened so suddenly. Still, I'm sure it's not her fault._ "It's not a problem," she said, though this wasn't really true -- she just couldn't think of anything better to say. "Although, might I ask you something?"

Pauling looked somewhat uneasy, but she nodded. "Sure, go ahead."

"Alright." Kaethe inhaled deeply before she spoke again. "Would it be too much to ask that you tell me why it is that you called me in on a Saturday morning? I mean no disrespect when I say this, but you must understand that it's rather unusual that this should happen."

There was nothing but stunned silence from Pauling for several moments. Finally, she replied very slowly: "It's somewhat complicated due to confidentiality matters, but you'll know soon enough."

"... 'soon enough.'" Kaethe couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort. "How long until I  _do_ know, exactly?"

"Within the next couple of hours, at most."

Kaethe very nearly asked another question that was resting on the tip of her tongue, but decided against it. "Alright."

Pauling gave Kaethe that same stale smile before continuing: "Anyway, would you mind if I make a phone call?"

"Not at all." Kaethe instinctively rose from her seat upon hearing the words "phone call", and was already tentatively inching towards the door. "Take as much time as you need."

"Thank you. It shouldn't be too long."

Kaethe nodded her understanding, and exited the room without another word, intending to make her way to the kitchen and put the wait to good use.

 

As time passed, the decision to be productive turned out to be a wise one, for the phone call did not come to an end nearly as quickly as anticipated. The minutes came and went, turning into a quarter hour, then a half hour -- and by the time almost forty-five minutes had gone by, there was still no word from Miss Pauling. "When I passed by the office, she was still talking," Mrs. Armani said in a low voice when she briefly joined Kaethe in cutting vegetables. "She must have an interesting idea of what 'not too long' means, because I think you and I both know that it's going to be quite a while longer."

Kaethe did not reply -- she only nodded and continued to cut tomatoes.

Another fifteen minutes went by, marking a full hour since Kaethe had been politely dismissed, followed by another quarter hour exactly identical to the previous one. Kaethe temporarily pushed aside the reason she was even at the restaurant as she lost herself in a frenzy of sliced produce and rapidly moving blades, even beginning to ignore Mrs. Armani always going in and out of the kitchen. She could wait -- she had done plenty of waiting before now, and a little more now wouldn't hurt her.

Finally, after almost an hour and a half of waiting, Mrs. Armani unexpectedly called Kaethe out into the hallway the next time she popped into the kitchen. "Miss Pauling's asking for you," she told Kaethe as the two of them walked back to the office. "I'm sure you guessed that already, though."

Kaethe nodded. " _Ja_."

The two of them continued on in silence, nothing but the sound of their shoes clicking on the tiled floor. The silence persisted until the two of them reached the office door once again, at which point Mrs. Armani turned to Kaethe with a shockingly grave expression. "Kaethe," she said somberly, "whatever happens, you know you'll always have all of us here, right?"

Kaethe couldn't help but be startled by this sudden statement. "Well, yes, of course," she stammered, "but I don't understand... Mrs. Armani, this is nothing more t-than just a spontaneous survey or something bizarre like that... right?" When Mrs. Armani did not reply, she went on uncertainly: "Right, Mrs. Armani?"

Mrs. Armani sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and looking very tired all of a sudden. "I wish I could say," she said a bit dully. "But it's not my place to say."

"... ' _not your place'?_  What on  _earth_ are you--"

At that moment, Pauling's voice called from inside the office: "Alright, Miss Daube, come in!"

Bewildered, Kaethe looked over at Mrs. Armani, who only sighed and shook her head. Suppressing a sigh of her own, she reached for the doorknob, turned it, and slipped quietly into the room.

Miss Pauling stood in the middle of the room as she waited for Kaethe. Strangely enough, she appeared to be a little red in the face -- yet she struck Kaethe as being oddly excited about something. "Miss Daube," she said, smiling and motioning for Kaethe to sit again. "Thank you for being patient."

"Of course," Kaethe said, trying not to let her mounting suspicion show through as she took her former seat.

Pauling's smile widened as she herself took a seat as well. "Now, you were asking about why it was that you got called in," she said, skimming through the papers that were attached to her clipboard. "Without divulging too much information, I can say that the company I work for -- TF Industries -- is looking for someone with your set of skills."

There was that name again -- TF Industries. Kaethe had heard of them prior to today, but she hadn't the faintest idea of what they did. She brushed this thought aside, frowning a little as she considered this statement. "Someone... with my set of skills... you need a linguist or a translator?"

"Not exactly, no. Your language proficiency is helpful, but not essential. If you want to be specific, we're looking for someone who specializes in communication and is familiar with various forms of information relays -- and you have just been approved for the position."

An electrifying silence hung in the room for a solid ten seconds as Pauling's words sank in. Finally, Kaethe broke the hush with a trembling voice: "Beg pardon?"

"You've been approved for a job in communications," Pauling repeated. "You see, your interest in the field and in getting a relevant degree caught the attention of our company."

Kaethe's head began to spin as she tried to wrap her mind around this fact. "Well, that's all fine and good, but..." She drew a sharp breath as she put a hand to her head. "... I... I didn't know this was a job interview... and... I... I'm... not looking for a job at the moment?"

"We're well aware of that," Pauling said brightly. "We were hoping that once you know the details, you'd find yourself interested. Trust me, if you hear me out, it'll be well worth your time."

For a split second, Kaethe very nearly said that perhaps she  _didn't_  want to hear whatever Pauling had to say -- but before the words could fall off of her lips, she felt a tug of curiosity inside her that was gently coaxing her to listen, so she bit her tongue and just said tiredly, "Alright."

"Thank you." Pauling continued to look through the papers on the clipboard. "As I've said before, I can't tell you  _everything_  the job entails due to confidentiality matters -- not until you've signed a contract, that is. However, what I can tell you is that your job is, of course, extremely communications based." She looked up from the clipboard, meeting Kaethe's gaze. "In the most basic terms, you will be required to work with someone that the company has deemed... unruly, but still necessary."

 _Oh, dear._  "How will I be working with this unruly person?"

"Said person has a certain...  _task_ to accomplish, which you'll learn more about later. While he's working to accomplish this task, it's your job to remotely communicate with him and advise him on how to best proceed."

Kaethe knit her brow, unsure of what Pauling's vague wording meant in exact terms. "So... act as an advisor of sorts."

"Essentially, yes. Now, the specifics of  _what_  you'll be communicating are a lot more complicated than what I described, but you'll learn that in good time."

"... this... job..." Kaethe bit the inside of her cheek. "... will it require me to move?"

"Well, no -- but you'll be doing a lot of travel."

Kaethe's eyes widened a little as she fought to keep an excited look off her face. "Really?"

"Yes! And by a lot, I mean... well, almost every day of the year, anyway."

"... ah." Kaethe's brief enthusiasm fizzled back into concerned pensiveness. "And how soon until I'd begin?"

"This Monday, actually! So you see... it would be  _really_  great to have an answer before you leave today."

Kaethe's heart sank a little, yet continued to pound wildly in her chest.  _So little time to make such an enormous decision,_  she thought, somewhat distraught.  _I'm not... unhappy exactly, but I'd love a different job where I get to travel. And yet... This place... it's my home. My neighbors and friends are like family to me... and Grandpapa..._  Her brow creased as she thought of her grandfather's smiling face, so happy to see her.  _What would he think of me leaving so unexpectedly?_

Seeming to sense what Kaethe was thinking, Pauling contributed another point: "If you're having difficulty deciding, you've got until tomorrow at three to let us know."

Kaethe remained silent, brow creased in deep thought and concern, trying to formulate a statement that would appropriately correlate with the thoughts whirling around in her head. Finally, she said very slowly, "Do not mistake my hesitation for disinterest -- I am far from that. But... I still have my doubts." She looked Pauling in the eye. "I need you to assure me that if I do this, if I say yes to this crazy offer and leave this place... the payoff will be worth it."

Pauling's self-assured smile faded into an unreadable, flat expression. "Um..."

 _"Miss Pauling."_  Kaethe's voice became sharp. "I'm no idiot. From the sound of it, I'm not going to know a blessed thing about this job you're so eager to recruit me for until the moment I sign that contract you've got. And I simply cannot and will not take that risk unless you can give me one good reason why I should leave behind everything I've ever known."

Pauling looked very thoughtful for several long moments, that same unreadable look on her face until she brightened as she thought of something and said, "Like most jobs, the amount of work you put in will affect how much you get out of it. This job that you're going to have... isn't going to be like most jobs, and it's challenging at times. But," she continued when she saw Kaethe's skeptical expression, "judging from what I've heard, you seem as though you're well-suited to what needs to be done, and I think you'll enjoy it." She grinned, clicking her pen. "So... what do you say, Miss Daube?"

For a fraction of a second, Kaethe contemplated outright saying no -- partly out of a single rare shred of spite that was motivating her, partly out of an innate desire to play it safe -- but in that fraction of a second, a spark of curiosity flew up as she eyed the clipboard that Miss Pauling held. Natural instinct cried that she should refuse, but the spark sang to her as it set her alight, intensifying ever the more as it told her that something about saying yes just felt  _right_  beyond any words.  _You need to do this,_ it whispered to her as common sense screamed and kicked and begged.  _Just say yes. Your grandfather will understand._

And with those words, the spark won.

 _I'll do it,_  she thought as she silently reached for a pen that rested in the middle of the table.  _Oh, it's the craziest thing I've ever done, and I might regret it -- but I'll regret not doing this even more._  "Where do I sign?"


	7. 07

Thirty-six hours later, Kaethe was following Miss Pauling out of the dry desert heat and into the tactical base at which they had just arrived, listening to Pauling's commentary that could be likened to that of a tour guide: "This, of course, is where you'll be staying," she was explaining as they went inside, her strides long and confident -- strongly indicative of someone clearly in her element. "As I've told you before, everything you do will be done inside the base. I won't get into too much detail about that, seeing as how you've already read it in the contract."

Kaethe nodded, lengthening each step to keep up with Pauling. "You mentioned that I won't be starting right away?"

"Not until the next assignment comes in, no. The team's already on a mission right now, so you won't see them until they come back later today. You'll probably start tomorrow or the day after tomorrow."

"Ah, I see," Kaethe said a little lamely.

"Yep."

The two of them walked onward in awkward silence, naught a sound but their footsteps as they continued down the hall. Kaethe kept her eyes fixed on what was ahead of her and Pauling, clutching the handle of her one small suitcase and refusing to acknowledge the dozens of unmarked doors that they passed lest she begin burning up with questions.  _I'm not here to pester anyone to the ends of the earth with meaningless inquiry,_  she reminded herself. _I'm here to do one jo--_

Suddenly, Pauling halted mid-step, and put an arm out to stop Kaethe. "Careful, watch your step," she cautioned as she looked down at the floor with a mildly exasperated expression.

Startled, Kaethe followed Pauling's gaze, and paled a bit at the  _large_  pool of blood that was covering nearly  _two-thirds_  of the width of the hall. "...  _oh_."

"Better get used to this, because this isn't exactly uncommon," Pauling said coolly as she took a long step over the puddle, and waited for Kaethe to awkwardly cross before they moved on. "Trust me, this probably won't be among the strangest things you'll see."

"... uh huh." Kaethe drew a sharp breath. "I'll... be sure to keep that in mind, I guess?"

"Good idea." With this crisp reply, the two of them fell back into the same tense silence as they kept walking.

The hush lent to a fiercely monotonous air, and soon Kaethe found herself occupied with her musings, considering what had transpired before she had left.

 

Grandpapa had been surprisingly calm about the business, seeming as though he had been half expecting what she had been about to say when she had arrived at the nursing home in a flurry and had quietly proclaimed the news.

"So... you're off on an adventure of your own, then?" he had asked after her breathless announcement.

She recalled shuffling a bit nervously, not quite wanting to make eye contact. " _Ja_ , I suppose I am." She had glanced up anxiously, knitting her brow. "You're not angry that I'm going, are you?"

"Gracious,  _Liebe,_  no!" he'd all but burst out, before pausing briefly and going on: "Only a little sad is all. But I'm more excited for you than anything else."

"Alright, that's good to know." Kaethe had made sure to express her relief very clearly. She'd hesitated for a moment before saying, "I had hoped you wouldn't be upset. I know this is very sudden, but... something just seemed right about it."

A knowing spark had lit up her grandfather's eyes. "Really, now?"

" _Ja,_  very much so."

The sad smile had returned to his face when she had said those words. "If that's the case,  _Liebling,_  I hardly think I would have been able to keep you from going at all to begin with." His sigh had been weary and worn as it echoed through the room. "It's very strange and wonderful that you're grown up enough to make decisions like this. It feels as though it was only yesterday that you were very, very young, and..." He trailed off as he seemed to lose grasp of the words he'd had in mind.

Kaethe had returned the same wistful smile as she nodded. "I agree," she'd said very softly.

His chuckle had been the only reply to this as he had slowly risen from his chair, wobbling a bit but still managing to stay upright as he brought Kaethe into an embrace. "I'll miss you, but I'm very proud of you for being so brave."

"Thank you." Kaethe's voice had cracked as she hugged him. "I'll miss you, too."

"Just remember that if you find the job isn't right for you, that you don't like it... there is no shame in coming home." He had slowly released her from the embrace at that point, still unsteady on his feet but continuing to smile sadly at her. "There's very little I need tell you, but I'll remind you, anyway. Be careful. Be safe. And  _Liebe_?"

"Yes?"

Her grandfather's face had become uncharacteristically grave as he spoke: "Travel changes you,  _Schatz --_  sometimes for better, occasionally for worse -- but you  _always_ change a bit. But don't let that change cause you to lose sight of who you are." Slowly, he had brought up a hand and indicated roughly about where Kaethe's heart was. "You're a luminous soul,  _mein Täubchen._  Don't let your light die. Share it with others, as you have always done, and for your own sake, be brave and don't let it flicker out."

Kaethe had only barely been able to keep the tears from brimming in her eyes. "I won't,  _Opa_ ," she had whispered as she had given him her own sad smile. "I promise."

Mrs. Armani, of course, had already known some of the details before Kaethe even knew, and had anticipated that Kaethe would accept the job. "This place has always been too small for you,  _mia cara,_ " she had said with a sigh when she met Kaethe at the apartment complex later, and Kaethe had shared her official decision. "Your grandpapa knows that, too. We've both known that for a long time -- so it's only right that you're going away for a while." Her smile had been sad. "Regardless, the girls and I will miss you very much."

A lump had formed in Kaethe's throat when she had heard this. "I will miss you, too. I will miss all of them. I... don't know why this feels right. This is crazy, I know it is. And yet..." She had trailed off helplessly, unsure of what to say.

Still, Mrs. Armani had nodded in understanding, somehow knowing what Kaethe had been trying to say. "You've got that itch. Most everyone has it when they're young, I think." A light chuckle had escaped her. "It will be very strange to not have you greet me in the mornings. Very strange to have your key back -- speaking of which, what do you plan to do with it?"

"I'll bring it to the laundromat early Monday morning before I go. If you don't mind, I'd like to continue renting my apartment from you so I have a place to keep my things while I'm gone."

"Alright, that's fine. That sounds good. I'll see you then."

The rest of that day and the entire next one had been spent cleaning the apartment and throwing sheets over the furniture to keep the dust from settling too thickly -- a definitive action that had somehow caused her brain to click and make her properly realize that she  _was_ leaving, that she  _was_  going through with this.

Yet in a way, it had failed to seem truly real. It had still felt like a dream -- even as Kaethe had re-read the essential terms of the contract she had signed (which had been unsettlingly specific, and yet so vague -- aside from coworkers, she was not to discuss her job with others, nor was she was to have "inter-company friendships", nor was she permitted to ask too many questions at any given time, et cetera, et cetera -- the list went on and on), even as she had packed her small suitcase with ample clothes before showering and going to bed, even when she had locked her small apartment and left it behind for the last time, even when she had stopped by the laundromat to drop off the key and say goodbye to everyone, even when the girls had hugged her and cried and said they'd dearly miss her and they all hoped she would find what she was looking for (whatever that meant), even when she had met Miss Pauling and they had driven all this way.

Nothing had seemed real -- until the moment Kaethe had stepped into the blazing sun and beheld the tactical base with the enormous logo "BLU" painted in plain sight, and had heard Miss Pauling's perky voice: "We're here!"

 

Now, as Kaethe followed Pauling through the halls of the base, she kept mulling over those last events and kind words from before she had left -- especially as her unease with her unfamiliar situation steadily rose.  _I've got a feeling that there's a great deal that wasn't disclosed too clearly in my contract,_  she thought with no small amount of discomfort as she caught a glimpse of a door that was splattered with dried blood.  _All the more reason to do my best, I suppose._

Suddenly, Pauling spoke for the first time in a great while: "Alright, here we are," she announced as they came to a door near the end of a short hall. "Your quarters -- at least here at this base, anyway."

Nodding silently, Kaethe reached for the handle and opened the door -- and what met her eyes was pleasantly surprising in its own strange way.

The room before her was only what could be considered a spartan room, with a single wrought-iron bed outfitted with a reasonably-sized (albeit uncomfortable, Kaethe was certain) mattress with a quilt and a single pillow, a very small dresser, and a solitary chair in the far corner of the room. Aside from these minimal furnishings, the room was completely bare, with every wall plain but for a tiny window on the wall directly across from the door just above the bed.

Simple, clean, and fresh -- in its own odd, straight-laced way.

Nodding again to indicate her approval, Kaethe stepped inside, setting her suitcase down with no small air of satisfaction and relief. "Excellent. Thank you," she told Pauling.

"Mmhmm." Pauling was preoccupied with a clipboard she had carried into the base, not looking up as she said, "Just leave your suitcase here for now, and I'll show you around the base before the rest of the team comes back from the mission."

"Alright." Kaethe moved her suitcase to the foot of the bed, then walked back over to Pauling. "Shall we?"

Pauling glanced up, looking a bit put off by this statement, oddly enough -- but still smiled and nodded as she said, "Yes, let's go," and walked out, Kaethe tentatively trailing behind her.

The tour proved to be incredibly useful, saving Kaethe the trouble of discovering the layout of the base herself. Miss Pauling retained her same air of self-assurance as she guided Kaethe from wing to wing, only pointing out rooms that Kaethe  _really_  needed to know. "You can always ask one of the guys to show you places like the training room if you'd like to know," she explained to Kaethe at one point after they exited the kitchen and mess hall. "I'm just giving a more detailed explanation of what will be most useful to you."

Kaethe had suspected this to begin with, among other things -- most specifically that she had figured out early on that she had been given the most conveniently located quarters in the entire base, judging from the fact that nearly every room of significance she had seen thus far had been roughly equidistant from hers -- but she did not remark on it, only nodded and said, "Of course."

And so it went for the next hour or so, until they had viewed nearly every place of importance. "There's only one more place that you need to see," Pauling said as they slipped down a hall that looped behind the kitchens and ascended a flight of stairs. "I thought I'd show it to you last so it would stick with you more."

Kaethe nodded for what seemed like the millionth time that day, remaining quiet.

For a time, there was nothing but the sound of their shoes on the steps -- but this didn't last long, as Pauling suddenly brightened as they came to the top of the stairs. "Here we go." She stepped aside, revealing a doorless entrance to a room. "This is it -- the place where you'll be doing the vast majority of your job."

Intrigued, Kaethe moved past Pauling, unsure of what she was about to see -- but upon walking through the doorway (if that's what it could be called despite having no door), she understood completely.

The walls on either side of the room stacked with enormous computer units that went all the way to the ceiling, accompanied with flashing lights and an ominous whirring sound loud enough that Kaethe could feel the vibrations through the soles of her shoes. The wall perpendicular to the computer units and just ahead of her, however, was what caught her attention. There was a small window in the exact center of the wall that looked out over the grounds just outside the base, and a long desk stretched along the entirety of the wall with a low-backed swiveling chair pushed up under it.

Kaethe drew a sharp breath, and silently made her way across the room. Upon approaching the desk, she discovered things she hadn't seen from the doorway -- a headpiece with a microphone hooked up to apparatus that would transmit every word spoken into it, and a display that was set into the desk that would light up while in use, but was turned off at that moment. "A communications room," she said in an awed voice.

"Yes." Pauling was now beside her. "That was this room's original function, anyway -- but up until this point, the team has used it as a place for strategizing before missions." Her mouth twisted into a faint smile. "The company thought it could be put to more effective use, which is why you're here."

"I can see why." Kaethe let out a low laugh of disbelief, running one hand along the apparatus on the desk while she rested the other on the back of the chair. "This is incredible." She did not, however, add what she was thinking in private: incredibly  _expensive_. It was hardly a wonder she had been hired -- she was here partially to keep the company from losing money.

Pauling's smile widened a little as she jotted down something onto her clipboard. "Do you know how to use all of this equipment?"

"I've not had experience with it, no, but I know what some of it does." Kaethe tapped the headpiece that was lying next to the display. "This, of course, I'm certain has to be for relaying and receiving information. Everything hooked up to it I likely don't have to worry about too much." She motioned to the display. "I don't know what this is for -- but I'll figure it out."

"You were correct about the headset, it'll be used for giving instructions to your... partner." The word was carefully chosen. "And the display will show you the location of every other person on the team."

"Ahhhh!" Kaethe brightened. "Now I see." Another thought came to mind, and she asked, "How quickly does the display update?"

"It's fairly accurate, but still somewhat slow -- roughly about once every three to five seconds." Pauling gestured to the window. "Hence the view."

Kaethe nodded in understanding. "I see."  _I was wondering about that. Good to know._

"Yes. I--" Suddenly, Pauling fell silent, and hastily glanced down at the watch on her wrist before she briskly walked out and stood at the top of the stairs, seeming to listen for a moment before turning back to Kaethe and saying, "We've run over an hour. The team's back. They've probably been back for a while, because judging from the noise carrying up the steps, it sounds like they're having dinner."

"... ah." Kaethe's eagerness faded and was replaced with something else -- excitement, only now it was mingled with immense agitation. "I see."

Pauling immediately seemed to sense Kaethe's apprehension, and said quickly, "No need to worry about meeting them by yourself -- I'll introduce you before I go."

Kaethe nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. "Alright."

"Great!" Pauling began to walk down the steps, and Kaethe followed her. "Just so you know," she explained as they carefully went along, "everyone on the team addresses each other by their role -- 'the Medic, 'the Heavy', 'the Engineer' -- you get the idea. So I'm going to introduce you by  _your_  role, and leave it to your discretion whether or not to let them call you by your real name or not."

 _Interesting._  "That's fine." Kaethe hesitated briefly as they finished walking down the stairs and made their way down the hall, then continued with a nervous laugh, "Although, I am wondering... what  _am_ I, exactly? I know that's a silly question, but I honestly don't know."

"No worries. From what I know, the contract didn't explicitly state your exact job title." They exited the hallway and came to where several other hallways converged, including the closed set of double doors that led to the mess hall. "Your job is a bit difficult to give a good name, seeing as how 'communications specialist' is too long compared to the titles your teammates have. But when described in the most simple of terms, what you do is you're in charge of directing one person and making sure he does what he's supposed to do -- in other words, you guide him." Pauling smiled a bit. "So you're the Guide -- the  _Scout's_  Guide, if you want to be specific, but if you stick with them calling you by your title, they'll probably just call you the Guide. Make sense?"

The Guide. Kaethe felt a new weight of responsibility settle onto her shoulders when she considered the name, finding herself surprised by how right it seemed. "Yes," she said finally. "It does."

"Fantastic." Pauling walked over to the set of double doors, reaching for one of the handles as she glanced over her shoulder at Kaethe. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."  _As ready as I'll ever be._

"Alright." She set her hand on the door handle, and remained silent for a moment or two before she gave Kaethe an assured smile. "Welcome to Team BLU, Miss Daube," she said--then, ever so slowly, ever so carefully, turned the handle and opened the door.


	8. 08

The instant the door was fully open, Pauling and Kaethe were met with a cacophony of sound over from the far end of the room. There, several figures were sitting at a long table, engaging in casual conversation and laughing raucously as they ate.

Silently, Pauling beckoned with a hand and began to make her way across the room, and Kaethe followed close behind, her apprehension rising with every step she took. Drawing nearer, she counted six figures sitting around the table and began to make notes to herself about them -- all men of varying heights, builds, and nationalities who were clearly well-acquainted with one another.  _They ought to be an interesting group at the very least,_  she thought musingly.  _Good-natured from the sounds of it, too, so hopefully avoiding a bad first impression will be simple enough._

When they had finally made their way over to the table, none of the men had noticed the presence of either Pauling or Kaethe, and were still chatting amongst themselves.

It was at this point that Pauling sighed, tapping her foot as she cleared her throat: " _Ahem._ "

Startled, they all looked up from their food and over at Pauling.

"Gentleman." Pauling spoke crisply. "I apologize for interrupting your dinner, but this won't take but a moment. This is--" Suddenly, she came to an abrupt stop, frowning as she stared at the group and silently did a head count before she continued: "Guys, where's Scout? It's important that he hears this."

"Last I checked," a shorter man drawled in a Texan accent, "Scout was still in the shower," and there were snickers from the rest of the group.

"Ah." Pauling pursed her lips, then asked, "Well, could one of you go get him, please?"

"I will, Miss Pauling!" volunteered another man enthusiastically, rising to his feet so quickly that the military helmet he was wearing slid down over his eyes before he pushed it back up.

"Thank you, Soldier."

He grinned before he rose from his seat and dashed past Kaethe and Pauling, cackling as he sprinted out of the room.

Pauling stood there in silence for a moment, arms crossed and clipboard in hand as she silently waited. "Shouldn't be long, now..."

For a moment Kaethe wondered if she should ask just what exactly was going on--until a terrified scream came from one of the hallways just outside the mess hall.

"Ah!" Pauling brightened. "There it is."

The men who had remained seated began to chuckle, clearly in on some shared joke. "Squeals like a stuck pig, don't he?" Kaethe heard one of them whisper, and it was at this point that she deemed it best to remain silent for the time being.

Shortly after the small amounts of laughter had begun to subside, the man called "Soldier" walked back in with a wicked grin on his face and water splashed on his blue t-shirt. "He's coming, Miss Pauling!"

Pauling gave him a bright smile. "Great! Thanks, Soldier."

He chuckled darkly, and returned to his former seat

A few moments later, there were quick footsteps from down the hallway, and a tall skinny man who seemed hardly much older than Kaethe herself rushed into the room, leaving a wake of puddles behind him with every stride. "Hey, Miss Pauling," he said casually--a bit  _too_  casually, considering the fact he was sopping wet.

Kaethe tried to keep herself from reflexively stiffening.  _Gracious me... this is the "unruly person" Pauling was telling me about?_

"Scout." Pauling's voice was dry as she spoke, her eyes never leaving the clipboard she had begun reading after Soldier had come back into the room. "Have a seat, please."

"Sure thing, Miss P," he said, grinning as he positively swaggered past Pauling and  _completely ignored_  Kaethe before taking a seat at the table.

"Alright." Pauling looked up from the clipboard, her face completely unreadable. "Now that Scout is here, may I continue?"

There were nods and murmurs of agreement from the men at the table.

"Thank you." Pauling smiled a tiny bit, and gestured towards Kaethe, nodding. "Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce your new team member -- the Guide."

The men's gazes drifted to Kaethe, and a few of them exchanged glances as they began to murmur and nod in what  _seemed_  to be approval, and Kaethe was fairly certain one of them at the far end of the table said in a low voice, "About time" -- all except for "Scout", who did not appear to have anticipated this statement and was staring at Kaethe with an unreadable expression on his face. An uneasy feeling rose up inside of Kaethe, and she bit the inside of her cheek and avoided eye contact.

Pauling waited for a moment for the quiet discussion at the table to subside, then went on: "Now, in regards to this new addition to the team, you all received a copy of the contract extension that was given out a few days ago, and each of you signed and returned it last night. I don't think there's a need to remind you of what will happen if you don't heed the extension's terms, is there?"

More nods and murmurs of agreement.

"Good. I had hoped that wouldn't be necessary." She glanced down at her clipboard once more, skimming through the pages attached to it. "I have other business to attend to, so I'll be leaving you to become acquainted with your new teammate." She glanced up again, a silent warning in her eyes as she gazed back over at the table before looking at Kaethe and smiling a little. "You need anything, ask one of them or call me, alright?" she said quietly.

"I will," Kaethe said softly. "Thank you."

Pauling nodded, her smile fading as she looked back over at the men. "Any questions?"

At that moment, Scout jumped to his feet and spoke up: "Yeah, uh... Miss Pauling? Can I talk to you for a minute?  _In private?"_  he added, with a pointed glance at a couple others who had begun to laugh a little.

Pauling raised an eyebrow, then shrugged and cast her eyes back down at the clipboard. "Sure, just walk with me."

"Thanks," he said before leaving his seat and walking over to Pauling to stand next to her, completely ignoring Kaethe  _again_.

"Mhmm. Anyone else?"

Murmurs of "no" rippled around the table.

"Alright. I'll be seeing you soon, BLU Team. Enjoy the rest of your evening." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room, Scout trailing alongside her.

The second Pauling was gone, the men at the table remained dead silent, doing nothing but exchanging glances as they began to have some inaudible discussion, and Kaethe felt herself becoming uncharacteristically anxious.  _This has proved to be incredibly awkward thus far,_ she thought in distress.  _I probably look like some kind of naive child to them!_

But Kaethe's pervasive thoughts did not linger for very long -- for at that instant, a murmur of agreement suddenly rippled around the table, and a burly man rose to his feet with surprising quietness. "Would you like to sit?" he asked Kaethe, his Russian-accented voice gruff, though not unkind.

Nodding as her face warmed, Kaethe quickly walked over and walked over to an empty place near the end of the table between the Russian man and another tall and lanky man. "Thank you," she said very quietly as she took a seat.

He gave her a brief nod and grunted. "You are welcome. So you are Guide, yes?"

"Yes, sir, I am."

"Hmm." He gave her a smile, and nodded again. "Very good." He held an enormous hand out to her. "I am Heavy Weapons Guy. Team just calls me Heavy."

_Heavy._  Kaethe briefly recalled what Pauling had said to her earlier about how each team member went by their class name, then smiled and shook his hand. "A pleasure and an honor, sir."

Light chuckles came from a few of the men as Heavy's smile widened briefly before he very gingerly put her hand down -- then, a well-built black man with a close-cropped haircut, well-trimmed beard and sideburns, and an eyepatch leaned across the table and reached towards Kaethe. "I'm the Demoman, lass," he said as he too shook with her, his voice thick with a Scottish accent. "The lads call me Demo, and ye can, too."

_Demo._  Her smile widened, and she nodded. "Once again, sir -- a pleasure and an honor."

He grinned at her before letting go of her hand, and another member of the team stood: this time, the shorter man with the Texan accent from earlier. "Nice to meet you, darlin'," he said, offering her an easy smile as he gave her a firm handshake. "I'm the Engineer."

Kaethe returned his smile.  _Engineer._ "Likewise, sir."

He gave her a respectful nod before he sat down again, at which point the lanky man sitting on Kaethe's opposite side shook her hand. "The name's Sniper," he said, his Australian accent emanating an easygoing sort of nature. "Good to meet ya."

_Sniper._ "Likewise," she repeated, still smiling.

At that moment, the man Pauling had called "Soldier" practically dove across the table and landed mere inches away from Kaethe's face. "WELCOME TO THE TEAM, SON!" he stated emphatically, grinning at Kaethe before he all but snatched her arm away from Sniper and vigorously shook her hand. "IT'S GOOD TO HAVE YOU HERE!"

"... thank you," Kaethe said, blinking in stunned disbelief. "That's... that's very kind of you."

He cackled, then let go of Kaethe's hand before getting up and returning to his previous seat -- and then, a man Kaethe had not noticed before rose to his feet, making his way over to where Kaethe was seated. " _Mademoiselle_ ," he said calmly, smiling at her. "A pleasure."

Kaethe started at the sound of his voice, staring at him in astonishment as she studied him -- the tall, thin figure, the accent, the distinct cigarette scent she could detect, the mask...

...  _and the suit._

" _Monsieur_ ," she cried, brightening a little. " _Il fait bon vous revoir!_ "

For a split second, he looked as startled as Kaethe had felt just moments before -- but then, his smile widened as the rest of the team stared in confusion. "Ah!  _Tu te souviens de moi!_ "

Kaethe lifted her brows, still smiling a little. " _Oui, je me souviens._ "

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Spy," he said with an air of poise, "and it is a pleasure and an honor to have you join the team,  _mademoiselle."_ Still smiling at her, he motioned to her hand. "May I?"

Kaethe's face flushed, but she smiled and nodded. "You may, sir."

"Thank you." He leaned over and took Kaethe's hand, gently lifting it and pressing a kiss on the back of it. "Once again, a pleasure."

"You... you're very kind."  _And a gentleman,_  she added silently.

"A lady is deserving of nothing less." He let go of her hand and slowly straightened, still smiling all the while. "We're very glad to have you here," he said, and general agreement and light cheering and applause came from everyone sitting at the table.

Kaethe felt her smile widen. "Thank you, all of you," she said with no lack of graciousness as the applause faded. "I'm glad to be here."

"Wonderful!" Spy's smile remained on his face as he nodded in satisfaction and went on: "So now you've met just about everyone, except that Scout hasn't properly introduced himself yet, our Medic is elsewhere at the moment, and Pyro is..." He trailed off, frowning as he turned to the rest of the team. "Gentlemen, where  _is_  Pyro?"

It was then that Heavy inhaled very deeply, then exhaled and rumbled, "I smell stove," and Kaethe realized he was right -- for the unmistakable scent of a gas range that had been left on for too long had crept its way into the room and now hung in the air.

There were startled shouts from the men, and the Engineer leapt to his feet, calling "Y'all, I got this!" as he dashed into the kitchen.

"Hopefully he hasn't set the whole bloody kit and caboodle on fire," Sniper muttered before sighing and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Aye," Demo agreed, "that's the last thing any of us needs after how today went!"

Upon hearing this exchange, Kaethe could feel the blood draining from her face. "... fire," she repeated in a very small voice.

"I'm  _sure_  nothing has happened," Spy said forcefully as he shot Sniper and Demo venomous glances. "And if something  _did_ , it can  _certainly_ be sorted out. Wouldn't you agree, Heavy?"

Heavy grunted his assent, and seeming to detect what Spy was implying, Sniper and Demo instantly dropped the subject.

"Excellent. No need to create  _unnecessary crises_ ," Spy said crisply, giving Kaethe another smile.

Kaethe hesitantly returned his smile.  _I get the feeling that there's a lot they haven't told me, and probably_ won't _tell me,_  she thought, her previous discomfort returning.

At that moment, the gas smell began to fade from the air, and Engineer walked back out of the kitchen with a figure in a blue jumpsuit and gas mask. "Everything's fine, guys," he said, smiling and nodding to the person who stood beside him. "Pyro here was just tryin' to fix some food for the little lady, weren'tcha?"

"Mmmm mmmmm!" the "Pyro" mumbled, nodding excitedly as he held up a plate and a soda bottle.

"Yeah." He grinned, chuckling a little. "Why don'tcha go over and say hi and give it to her?"

"Mmmm!" Pyro shuffled over to where Kaethe was sitting and very carefully placed the food in front of her -- some fried chicken, cheese, a sliced apple, and the bottle, which contained some kind of cola -- then handed her a fork and knife before turning to her and waving. "Hmmm mmmmphhh!"

With this kind gesture, Kaethe felt her smile return in spite of herself. "Thank you," she said. "You're very sweet."

"Hmmmm mmmmphh mmhmm!" was the indistinct reply before he selected a chair nearby and seated himself, propping his elbows on the table and resting his head in his hands.

"That's seven of the nine of us you've met, then," Spy said, speaking for the first time in a while. "So now, assuming Scout decides to stop being an insufferable flirt and Medic ceases holing up in his lab, you'll have met everyone."

Kaethe's smile widened a little. "I look forward to it, Herr Spy."

He chuckled a little. "I'm glad to hear that." Still smiling, he motioned to the plate in front of Kaethe. "Enjoy your meal,  _mademoiselle_."

"Thank you." Kaethe flashed a smile at Pyro before giving Spy a respectful nod. "I will."

Spy chuckled again, then turned and went back to his former seat. The rest of the men seemed to take this as their cue to resume business as usual, and fell back into their comfortable discussion as they resumed eating dinner.

Kaethe's bright smile became a more thoughtful and grateful expression as she looked down at the plate before her, and a light chuckle escaped her.  _It's much too soon to tell, but from what I've seen, they aren't so bad -- and I think I'm going to like this new job._  And with this thought, she lifted her fork, and took a bite of her first meal with her new teammates.

 

For a time, the status quo remained the same, with the men chatting and eating and Kaethe quietly listening all the while as she too ate.  _This is nice,_  she thought with a smile to herself as she took a sip of her soda before nibbling at her chicken.  _To think I was nervous at all about thi--_

Suddenly, the doors to the dining hall opened, and the conversing came to an abrupt halt as Scout walked in. He had dried off somewhat since his departure, but seemed to have exchanged this for looking considerably deflated. "Hey, guys."

"Ah, Scout!" said Spy a little too cheerfully, and Kaethe easily detected the loaded sarcasm. "Nice to see you've  _finally_ dropped by."

"IT'S ABOUT TIME, JUDAS!" Soldier cried, slamming a fist on the table, and general agreement came from the others.

Scout scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he said agitatedly as he stalked past the table and went into the kitchen.

_Dear me,_ Kaethe thought to herself as she knit her brow, sighing and picking at her chicken uncomfortably.

Noticing this behavior, Sniper leaned slightly towards Kaethe and asked in a low voice, "Something wrong?"

She flashed him a brief, faint smile. "Oh, it's nothing," she replied in a near-whisper, "only that Scout hasn't, ah, seemed too pleased since I've arrived."

Sniper snorted, shaking his head. "Don't pay him any attention," he said, taking a sip of the beer he had retrieved earlier. "It probably ain't you that's got him upset, and if it is, half the time that spastic little gremlin doesn't know what's good for him, even if it bites him on the nose and hangs on for a week."

"He's probably mad because talk with Miss Pauling didn't go so good," Heavy said quietly before taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Oh, aye," Demo chimed in, clucking a bit as he shook his head. "Even if it is ye, it's not yer fault, lass. The lad's needed a Guide a while yet -- at  _least_ since RED got one, anyway, and that was a whole bloody year ago."

Sniper nodded sagely at this as he took another sip of his beer. "Yeah. So don't worry about it too much. He'll get over whatever's got his knickers in a twist before too long, and that's probably when he'll start flirting with you -- and  _that's_ a whole new can of worms."

Kaethe smiled somewhat uncertainly at this statement. "Ah, I understand now. Thank you."

They acknowledged her gratitude by way of nodding, then went back to their former discussion.

With the end of this exchange, Kaethe returned to her usual musing.  _So there's a Guide on the other team, too?_  she thought as she took another drink of her soda.  _That begs the question of why a Guide for this team wasn't hired at the same time..._

She pondered this for a time as she continued eating, until Scout presently exited the kitchen with a plate piled high with fried chicken and assorted junk food, as well as a can of Bonk! soda. He paused in the doorway -- deciding where he would sit, Kaethe assumed -- then shrugged and sauntered over to the table, where he took the seat that was beside Demo and directly across from Kaethe. He studied her in silence for several long moments, and Kaethe's growing discomfort made her wonder if she should say something, until he finally said in a low voice, "So you're the Guide, huh?"

Kaethe nodded. "I am."

"Hmm. Okay." A smile twitched at his lips as he offered her a hand, which, Kaethe noted with interest, had bandages wrapped around the palm and wrist. "Anyway, I'm Scout, but you probably already know that."

_Oh, thank the heavens -- he doesn't completely hate me!_ Kaethe smiled with some relief as she took Scout's hand. "Nice to meet you," she said softly as they shook.

His smile widened as he let go of her hand. "Yeah, me too." He flashed her a cocky grin as he picked up a drumstick off his plate. "You seem like the Guide type, now that I think about it."

At this, Heavy let out a scornful snort beside Kaethe and Sniper choked on his beer mid-sip. Ignoring them, Kaethe raised an eyebrow _._ "Do I, now?"

"Oh, yeah," he continued, sheer confidence positively radiating off of him as he took an enormous bite out of the drumstick. "What else would you be? You don't seem like the battlefield type -- no offense."

_... "battlefield type"?_  she wondered, biting the inside of her cheek. "None taken."

"Thanks." He took another bite of his chicken, and mumbled around his mouthful of food, "So, hope you don't mind my asking, but where're ya from?"

_An abrupt subject change, then,_ she mused. "Oh, it's no trouble. I'm from Boston."

His face lit up. "Really?" he cried with delight. "Me too!"

"Ahhhh, really?" Kaethe gave him her own bright smile.  _Now_  that's  _interesting -- but likely not a coincidence._  "How wonderful!"

He nodded vigorously, and swallowed before he went on:"Yeah! What part of town?"

"The downtown district. Not where all the rich people live," she clarified, seeing his expression of distaste, "but the older area -- you know, where all the little shops and things are."

"Gotcha. " He grinned before gesturing broadly to himself. "Southie guy here, and  _proud._ "

"Ohhhh!" She nodded knowingly.  _Once again -- not a coincidence._  "I've been over there once or twice before. The waterfront is nice."

"Sure is." His eyes sparkled with happiness. "Man, this is  _awesome_."

She laughed a little at this. "Mhmm."

His grin widened, and he opened his mouth to say something else, but Spy suddenly spoke up: "I hate to cut into your little icebreaker chat, but I just remembered that Medic asked me to bring the Guide to his lab as soon as possible -- so if you're finished eating and you don't mind,  _mademoiselle,_  we should go."

Clearly disgusted, Scout gave Spy a long and resentful glare, and opened his mouth to make some doubtlessly hostile remark, but Kaethe quickly spoke up: "Yes, Herr Spy, that's fine."

"Excellent." Spy rose from his seat, and walked over to where Kaethe was still sitting. Taking her hand, he helped her to her feet and proceed to offer her his arm, asking, "Shall we?" with a smile on his face.

Kaethe blushed and nodded, taking his arm before looking over at everyone who was still seated. "It was lovely meeting all of you," she said, smiling at them. "Thank you for your warm welcome, it means a great deal to me."

Amiable murmurs and nods came from the men, as did the sound of a few of them saying "you're welcome" or "no problem," and in the midst of it all, Soldier declared vehemently, "YOU'RE NOT HALF BAD, SON!"

Kaethe laughed a little. " _Danke,_  Herr Soldier." She cast her gaze over at Pyro, flashing him a bright smile. "And thank you for bringing me a plate, Pyro."

"Mmmh mmmmh!" was the sunny reply.

Spy chuckled. "Now then, we'll be taking our leave." He nodded to the group, all but Scout not seeming too particularly distressed about Kaethe's departure. "Gentlemen," he said composedly before he finally turned away from the group and escorted Kaethe out of the mess hall.


End file.
